One of The Boys
by DollieMay 19
Summary: Sandy, Sandy, Sandy... When will you shut the door? Along with this, Sandy has got a few other gender issue quirks that can only be gotten rid of one summer by a certain guy ham who makes her no longer want to be one of the boys.
1. Chapter One: A Boy Named Sandy

One of The Boys

Chapter One: A Boy Named Sandy

_Doo doo doo_

_Doo doo doo doo da-doo_

_Doo doo doo…_

_I saw a spider_

_I didn't scream_

'_Cause I can belch the alphabet_

_Just, double dog dare me, and_

_I chose guitar over ballet_

_And I take these suckers down_

'_Cause they just get in my way…_

Sandy hummed along to the song blaring on the radio and tapped her dingy sneakered foot to the rickety floor of Boss' unattractively dusty pick-up. The upbeat tune wasn't what made her so happy, nor was it the fact that their baseball team had shut out her twin brother's in their scrimmage (though it was a major factor nonetheless). The sheer pleasure she got from beating the others to the truck and earning herself shot gun was what did it for her. She pulled the lever back to recline her seat and show off all the space she had up there to the boys crowded in the back and bed of the vehicle. The normal hooting and hollering carried on as always after a victory and the girl closed her eyes with a content smile.

When Sandy was dropped off at home, though, the sound of a boy's yelling was not so amusing to her anymore. Stan had greeted her with a scowl and a soft punch to the arm, the knuckles of his paw still covered with sand from the field. Sandy simply ignored the poor sport as she walked upstairs, and swung her odorous bag into the corner of her closet, continuing on to the bathroom. Stan followed her, stomping all the while.

"You guys are such cheaters! I can't believe you! Oh man, is the ump going to hear it from me next time! What cheap calls! Sis, you guys mighta won this time, but we'll get you back when it counts! And hey! Aren't you breaking the rules by playing on a boys team anyway, since you're a _girl_?"

Sandy wanted to smack the sly grin off her brother's face as he stood, leaning against the doorway , but she hesitantly chose to wash off her face and paws instead.

"Mom and Dad like, got me permission. So hah, snot face!"

"Don't call me that! I have a _cute_ face." Stan crossed his arms, turning his nose up to the air.

"If by 'cute', you totally mean 'ugly'!" Sandy snickered as she wiped the water from her chin.

"You're the ugly one! Sometimes I can't even tell you're a girl! Haha," he retorted, glaring at her.

"Well, maybe I like, don't _wanna_ be a girl…" snarled she. "You're more of a girl than me, anyway!"

"Hey!" Stan went in for a head-lock, creasing his forehead in resentment.

"Kids…! Dinner's ready!" the twin's mother called from the other side of the house. They groaned, disappointed there would be no fight.

"We'll settle this there, then." Stan narrowed his eyes. Sandy's mimicked his.

"Fine. Whoever eats the most fried squash wins."

* * *

"Guys, that's an awful lot of squash you put on your plates…" Sandy and Stan's father commented with an odd and surprised expression on his face.

"Oh, they're just growing children," their mother said, dismissing that the two had only spared about half a dozen pieces.

"Yeah, Dad! We're totally growing kids!" Sandy agreed with a laugh, wiping the grease from her mouth with her striped sleeve.

"Well, just be sure to not only eat the breading," her father replied, having not noticed what they girl had just done.

"Okay!" Sandy spit a few chunks of food as she said this, her mouth full to capacity. Her mother gasped, pulling at her own whiskers in dismay at her daughter's feat .

"Sandy! I just watched you do two very big dinner table no-nos in a row! Sweetheart, we do have napkins. Please don't use your shirt. And… Remember to chew and swallow before you speak. Nobody wants to see your food."

"Ha! 'See food'!" Stan coughed, opening his filled mouth so only Sandy could look.

"Like, Stan! You're such a dweeb! You sooo need to get a life!" she hollered, trying to reach across the table to slap him.

"Twins, settle down," their father scolded unsuccessfully as the two young teens ran off and around the corner. His wife sighed, slumping in her chair and hitting her foot against something under the table. She bent down to grab it and emerged with an even bigger frown, presenting a shoe which resembled Swiss cheese in between two fingers.

"Oi… She really needs to get rid of these things," the woman said, indicating the tattered red skateboarding shoes. She sighed again heavily. "You would think she lived with only you and Stan with the way she acts sometimes…" Her husband didn't know if he should have been insulted by this or not.

The ruckus from upstairs got louder as Sandy and Stan returned to the dining room.

"Uh-oh! Here they come again!" their father chuckled. The siblings sat down. "So did you get it all out of your systems?"

Sandy beamed. "Yup."

"Yeah…" Stan answered, rubbing the back of his head and sulking as he bit his lip.

"Well, good. Let's have a nice family dinner now," he proposed, flashing a reassuring smile at his wife, who wearily returned it.

They all picked up their forks and ate in pleasant silence. An occasional question was asked about one's day or a comment uttered about how good the meal was had been made, but for the most part everyone busied themselves with munching.

As Sandy and Stan's mother began to clear the table, Sandy chugged down the last of her water and let out a long, grotesque belch which struck both her parents faces with a look of horror. This caused her father to nearly choke and her mother to drop a plate. Both glowered in the direction of the source. Stan, still placed at his chair, laughed so hard his drink spluttered out of his nose.

"Oh, dude! Nice!" he said between wheezes, holding up his paw for a hi-five. Sandy leaned over and clapped paws together with him, the sound echoed off the walls.

Their father glared at them.

"Stanley, don't praise your sister for such impolite things. And please don't call her 'dude'…"

* * *

It was another lazy summer day and the first thing that Sandy did that mid morning upon waking up was go to the bathroom. She stepped through the hall and took a whiff of the sweet July air pouring into the house from the big window at the end of the hallway. It was a great change for her nose after having to smell dirt and sweat and possibly an old pizza crust she could not find for the life of her all night long. She didn't take the time to notice the beautiful teal curtains fluttering around, trying to rub off the goop that had accumulated on her eyelashes as she'd slept on her way to the bathroom.

While she pulled her boxers down and sat, Stan happened to walk by and jumped as usual at seeing his sister relieving herself. It was an unfortunate occurrence that the two always seemed to wake up around the same time. Their parents diagnosed the phenomenon to it just being a "twin thing".

Stan averted his eyes, grumbling in the same anger and shock he felt every time this happened, which was often enough he should have known by now it was to befall on him.

"Augh! Geez, Sandy! Would ya close the door for once?"

His snarl got a laugh out of her.

"Umm… Chill out, dude! I'm just your sister. And I'm like, sitting down, so you totally can't see anything."

Stan reddened from embarrassment and rage. "Same diff! I got enough of this anatomy crap in health class last year!"

Sandy raised an eyebrow, weaving her arms atop each other over her chest.

"Again. I'm like, your sister. You so totally shouldn't be looking at me like that."

"But, I'm not!" Stan cried out, puffing his cheeks and glaring at her for a moment, forgetting she was still on the toilet.

"Oh, really?" Sandy smirked, opening her mouth wide to yell. "MOM! Stan's watching me while I'm trying to take a leak!"

Once she'd said that, she remembered that her mother had to work that day and her father's voice was proof of this.

"Stan, don't look at your sister when she's using the bathroom. It's unnatural. And Sandy, young ladies don't talk like that, not in this house. Please shut the door next time."

Stan retreated to his room and Sandy scoffed, quoting her father snottily.

" 'Young lady'. Puh!"

-.-.-


	2. Chapter Two: The Love of Her Life

One of The Boys

Chapter Two: The Love of Her Life

"Sandy Elaine! Your father told me about what happened this morning. How many times must we ask you to close the door before using the WC?" The twins loved how their mother could be so old-fashioned at times. They also loved to make fun of her for this quirk just as well.

"_WC_?" Stan snickered into a closed fist.

"What? Water closet. Is 'commode' any better for you?" She shot the children a playful look from her spot on the floor. They laughed. "That's what I thought." The woman continued to spray Sandy and Stan's duffel bags to make them smell less. "The point I'm getting at, Sandy, is that you are thirteen now! Way too old to be… Peeing and whatnot when everyone can see you! Have you no modesty at all?" She scrunched her face up at noticing some darkish filmy material on the bottom of Stan's cleat. "Ew… Honey, just please. Start to be more lady-like."

Sandy sighed and Stan pointed at her, mouthing a laugh while their mother was not looking. She had finally finished up and stood partway in a crouching position, casting her sea green eyes up on the girl, awaiting an answer. Sandy rolled hers.

"Like, can't promise anything…"

"Well, so long as you _try_." She rose completely and stood, smiling at her daughter and handing each child their bag. "Now, let's get you two to practice!" They started towards the front door.

Sandy grew perpetually slower on her trek down the stairs, hindering Stan's passage by doing so while their mother got farther ahead of them. Stan had a gut feeling of what was in store and griped inwardly.

"So…" said their mother from the door after she'd kissed their father goodbye. "Do you two plan on going to your little friend Bijou's birthday party? Her mom wants me to R.S.V.P.. Oh-ho! That just tickles me! They're French and they want us to _répondez, s'il vous plaît_…"

While the woman opened the door and went on jabbering across the driveway, the twins approached the porch in their sluggish gait. Upon their crossing, Sandy's father hastily turned her sideways ball cap straight, giving her a gentle clap on the shoulder. The girl pinched up her nose angrily then sighed, hugging her father before leaving. The children's mother was still talking away when they sat down in the car, giving Sandy the opportunity to request her favor from Stan.

"Tape me," she muttered below their mother's voice, handing him a dwindled roll of off-white masking tape.

"No! I always have to!" Stan protested, holding up his paws in refusal.

"Like, come on! Please? I need to have it done before we get there!"

"No way, dudette! I don't wanna look like a total loser at Bijou baby's soiree by having the Hams know I tape your 'boobs' down like, pretty much every day." He wrinkled his brow to show his disgust.

"Ugh! You do not! Just help me! It's not like you have that much of a reputation to ruin anyways! I mean, it's only like, my tank top you'll be taping over!" She could tell Stan wasn't going to budge unless she took drastic measures this time so she decided to nice up her speech. "Look, I'll like, so totally put in a good word for you with the new girl at Bijou's party if you like, do this for me just one more time!"

Her sibling's eyes lit up. A grin took over his face.

"Add Pashmina to that and it's a done deal!" He immediately started ripping off long strips of tape.

"Fine. Now, like please hurry up. We're almost there…"

* * *

Sandy enjoyed going to baseball practice not only because it gave her the chance to run around like crazy and savor the great outdoors or for the reason it got her some time to spend away from Stan, but mostly because she could still see some of her good friends away from school which doubled as teammates over the summer. Especially Maxwell.

That dork. He wasn't even all that athletic and didn't realize it enough to quit, but it gave Sandy some kind of pleasure to watch him try to run and not flinch from the ball. He was a nice kid- smart kid- of whom Sandy admired anyway despite his lack of talent in sports. She found it amusing to pick on him for not knowing what an RBI was the first season of baseball (it was coach pitch, if she remembered correctly) they had played together in, yet got upset every time he shot back with asking her something along the lines of what knowledge she had about the square root of pi.

Speaking of Maxwell, there he was, swinging his bat in an awkward stance. Sandy laughed, catching his attention.

"Oh! Hey, Sandy!" He smiled warmly, sweat dropping.

"Haha. Hi, Max. Pretty fancy pose you had going on there," she teased. The older boy shrugged. "Ya know, we've been in baseball with each other for like, five years and you totally never get old."

Maxwell laughed shortly. "Thanks." Just then, the coach called the team over to the dug-out and the two went right away.

All the children sat down together except for Dexter, who isolated himself by standing at the opening, looking down at his dust powdered cleats. His coach and fellow team members noticed this.

"Dex, what's eating you?" Coach asked. It took him a minute to reply.

"I… I _kind of_ miss Howdy."

Everybody guffawed friendlily.

"I thought you like, hated each other!" Sandy pointed out.

"No. We just… Really like to argue."

Another wave of laughter came over the team, making even the glum Dexter smile. The coach patted him on the back.

"Well, hey. You have school with him, and you can hang out during the day if you really wanted to, so it's not _so_ bad. And plus, the other team needed a player since one of their guys left."

"Ugh! I bet it was Omar again. That kid refuses to get his fancy prince duds muddy. I don't see why he keeps joining baseball. Gosh, he's worse than a girl sometimes," scoffed Boss.

"Yeah! Even Sandy here isn't afraid to mess up _her_ clothes!" Panda concurred.

"I don't think she owns anything that nice to ruin in the first place!" someone added. Everyone laughed and ruffled up Sandy's fur as she playfully glared, swatting at a few hamsters near her and spat. The talk drew to a close and practice commenced.

* * *

It was the last drill of the day and the sun was getting low on the horizon. Bright mauve bridged the fiery orange to the darkening sky behind the trees. Maxwell stared in awe at such a lovely sunset. Sandy was up to bat.

"You ready?" the coach asked, already knowing her answer.

Sandy gave him a rigid nod, squinting her eyes in determination. The ball was her only focus. Not the others. Not the fancy sunset. Not even the hole she'd torn in her pants earlier on. And then it came, flying; zipped right across the field as if going straight to her, and she swung that wooden bat with all her might, shooting it right back with a loud crack that stung her paws. The breath she'd held in left her. Ah, what a beautiful pain…

The ball soared directly to Maxwell, who didn't realize it was coming until it had plunked down at his feet. Moans of displeasure came after the boy next, from his heckling team. Maxwell scurried to get the baseball as Sandy dashed around the first plate, laughing. Finally, he'd gotten the ball and tossed it unsuccessfully to third base. The boy there grumbled, going after it as Sandy rounded second, then third with ease. Just as she sprinted towards Home, he chucked the ball to Panda, who guarded it. In a desperate attempt to get a homerun, Sandy dove, sliding on her belly and getting a mouthful of dirt. She was then tagged out.

Fuming, she coughed out the grit and trudged to the dugout to get her bag. Maxwell sulked in behind her.

"Ug," he said, plopping down and still flushed. "I can't believe I let that happen…"

Sandy sat down beside him, taking a drink from her water jug, and heard a rattling from within one of the compartments of her bag as it toppled over. She glanced down in confusion and saw a bottle. There was a note that her mother had put in there laying under it.

'_You forgot to take your vitamins. :) _'

She crinkled up her brow. This caused Maxwell to get curious and he leaned over to read the slip of paper.

"Haha. Well, just tell her you got plenty of minerals today from eating that dirt! Eighteen, to be exact." He winked. She smiled at him considerately, chuckling to herself, then got back on subject.

"Hey. Well, don't feel bad either. Stuff happens. Like, even in the pros sometimes. Just like, pay more attention to the game and you'll totally do fine. The guys will so forget about this by next week."

Maxwell nodded, a timid grin on his face, and hoisted his large bag over his shoulder.

"You're right. Thanks, Sandy! You're a really great friend." He patted her on the head a few times before walking over to his bike. The two waved to each other farewell. Sandy stayed seated and beamed at him. He said she was his friend when she had always thought they were merely close teammates. That she was the tagalong sibling that pestered the older brother and his friends. But no. He called her his very own friend for the first time that she knew of. This made her happy, but even so, she was unable to shake off the slight twinge of sadness that she then felt as he rode off into the dusk.

"So, how was practice tonight, guys?"

"Good," Sandy peeped blandly, giggling. Her mother smiled from across the table.

"Well, what about for you, Stan?"

The boy sighed, weary.

"Totally bogus. I mean, Howdy was more annoying than usual… Somebody definitely needs to give him a lesson about comedy. But, not only that, Hamtaro was clueless as always and started sword fighting with the bats, and Oxnard kept trying to eat all the baseballs again! He says he thinks the stitches _look like licorice_." Stan slapped his forehead while his mother and sister let out a sympathetic chortle. "It's not funny! Gosh, my team sucks this year! I shoulda stayed with sis and Max…"

"Stanley, we don't say 'sucks' in this family. And things will be okay! Those are your fellas! Friendships just don't end over silly little quirks. I'm sure you're just having a bad day…" his mother consoled, smiling with empathy.

"But, we'll never win once the season starts like _this_! I mean, Sandy's team creamed us in that scrimmage the other day! Geez! Today was horrible! Besides having to see Sandy to the bathroom again, I tried getting the new girl's attention and she totally ignored me! She's so pretty, too…"

Stan's father grinned, nodding from where he sat and wore a look that showed he was about ready to give some sort of advice.

"Look, son. If it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be," he said wisely. Stan groaned, plunking his head on the table. "I mean, I liked plenty of girls before I met your mom. And besides, you're only going into eighth grade! You have plenty of time to deal with them."

"Yeah, sweetie!" his mother agreed, taking her husband's paw in both of hers, stroking it.

"It might help if you actually like, knew her name, too…" Sandy snickered smugly.

"Hey! I know her last name because of their mailbox and that she's friends with Max, so hah!" Stan yelled, leaping up in triumph and poking the tip of her nose.

"Settle down, you two…" their father scolded, pushing his empty plate away from himself.

"And Sandy, please get that dirt off your face…"

-.-.-


	3. Chapter Three: Sandy and Maxwell

One of The Boys

Chapter Three: Sandy and Maxwell, Sitting in a… Closet?

"Wow… Look at you in that dress! You're just cute as a button, sweetheart!"

Sandy rolled her eyes then directed them towards the full-length mirror in front of her in her parent's bedroom. She twisted around to see herself from the side and groaned inwardly. It was bad enough her mother went out and got this thing without asking her. Even worse that she got something purple. That, and the sequins on the low neckline made it too flashy, and her scabs and bruises clashed with it. Oh, but it was purple nonetheless! Purple wasn't exactly Sandy's color. She preferred red, if anything. Green the most. It brought out her eyes, not that she'd noticed or cared.

In truth, the dress had sort of grown on the girl and was quite attractive on her, it was a nice length, but she would never say that. And she definitely wouldn't let her mother call her 'cute' under any means. Sandy wrinkled her brow in thought, looking at herself skeptically to give her anxious mother the impression she was actually considering being fond of such a piece of clothing.

"It's okay," she finally said, shrugging and breaking the woman's heart.

* * *

Five 'o clock eventually arrived and Stan had been ready for hours. He'd been primping and checking himself for flaws the whole day after his quick breakfast. He looked at his reflection one more time from their car's rearview mirror before getting out of the car. Both young teenagers bade their mother adieu.

"You're such a girl…" Sandy scoffed under her breath to him as they waited at the door, each carrying a present. "I don't take like, nearly as long to get ready- ever."

"Well, maybe you should. You definitely could use some work there, sis!" Stan jeered.

"Uh! Jerkface!" Sandy knocked her box into Stan's, causing him to nearly drop it.

"She-He!" He pushed back harder.

"Sissy!"

"Butch!" The siblings rammed their gifts into each other's, then Stan rose his above his head to strike. Sandy stuck out her tongue, knowing full well that he wouldn't dare to hit her.

"Momma's Boy!"

"L-"

Just then, both children had realized that Bijou's butler had been standing at the beautiful towering door, behind them. His eyes were wide in horror at having just witnessed what the twins were doing. He cleared his throat dismissingly and bowed, pointing them in with his outstretched arm. The man followed them with his eyes to make sure they didn't try to pull any more antics.

* * *

The two didn't need the butler to escort them, for they could hear a repetitive, low-pitched beat from the other side of the mansion and let it lead them to where the party was. As they got closer to the room of the music's source, other hamster's voiced could be heard, loud in merriment. It was a race down the stairs and then the two separated to go off to meet up with their own friends.

Sandy could not begin her quest for Maxwell, though. Not until she'd spoken to Pashmina and the new girl, whichever she could find first.

* * *

It just so happened that Sandy wouldn't have to wait long to start her mission. She kept her eyes peeled not only for the girls but Maxwell, for she could never let her friend know about this deed or see her in the dress just yet. Laying low and continuing to watch Maxwell read in his corner by the stairs, more than likely waiting for she or Stan, she rammed her back into somebody else, jumping in fright.

"Ahh!" Sandy turned around to see who it had been and let out a sigh mixed of relief and accomplishment. It was Pashmina.

"Oh! Hi, Sandy!" was all the blonde hamster said, cheerily.

"Hey, Pashmina! I'm like, sooo sorry I bumped into you! Kinda distracted..."

Pashmina giggled friendlily, waving it off with a paw.

"It's alright." Sandy could tell the other girl wanted to ask something about why or what had distracted her so much, but due to the years of being stand-offish with one another, kept to herself.

"Okay… Thanks! Well, hey. Actually, I'm like, pretty glad we did run into each other here. Have to talk to you about something."

Pashmina stared at her patiently, waiting if she would say anything else.

"Uh, really? Alright! What is it?"

"Well, it's kinda awkward, but…" Sandy twiddled her paws, shuffling around a bit and looking down at her feet bashfully, causing Pashmina to get nervous. "I hope this is okay…"

"Y-you're not asking me out, are you?" she asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow. It was lucky for Sandy that Pashmina hadn't seemed to see the dress her peer was in this whole time, she was so caught up with the discussion which seemed to bloom from out of nowhere. Sandy blushed and flailed around, trying to find a way to explain herself.

"N-no! Well, like, I mean yeah, but it isn't for me! It's for my brother!"

Pashmina laughed in glee, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "Whew! Okay."

Sandy beamed. Her face was still warm.

"Anyway, he totally wants to know if you'd wanna-"

Before she could finish, Stan sidled over and captured a then flustered Pashmina in a hug.

"So, Pashy-baby… Care for a dance?" He winked, making her cheeks turn a deeper pink, similar to that of her scarf.

"Umm…"

"I think that is a 'yes'!" the boy hooted, slowly tugging her backwards. She yelped.

"Whoa! Stan! Be careful!" Pashmina squealed, getting pulled away to the dance floor. Sandy's gaze tracked them into the mob of partygoers when she caught a glimpse of a table at the far wall. It was full of talking girls, waiting for someone to ask them to dance, and one particularly unfamiliar one.

There she was.

* * *

Sandy crept across the room and over to the strange brunette who was surrounded by other girls which she recognized as classmates. She kept her eyes on the pretty girl in question and felt her own looks to be inadequate for some particular reason at that moment. It was no wonder her brother had become so infatuated with her.

Upon feeling Sandy's gaze on the back of her head, the brown-haired girl slowly turned around. Her concerned face transformed into a smile as she saw Sandy. The girls around her smiled too, though not as welcomingly as she. The group had never been mean to Sandy throughout school, but there had definitely been boundaries set up between them due to their obviously differing interests and behaviors, which the new girl was unaware of. Sandy looked just like any one of them in her dress, so she simply assumed that the others were friends with her. Sandy could tell this, and she felt as though she were standing around in somebody else's skin. Dresses were not for her.

"Hi there! I'm Candace," the new girl chirped happily over the loud music after a minute of waiting for Sandy to say something. "Wanna sit?"

Sandy smiled at the offer but shook her head. She knew her place.

"No, thanks. I just like, came here so I could talk to you."

An inquisitive expression came over Candace's face.

"Oh?" she asked, biting her claw and still smiling.

'_She's a very cheerful one…_' Sandy remarked to herself. '_Either that, or she's fake._'

"Yeah," she replied somewhat timidly, giving Candace the benefit of the doubt. It got quiet between them again in the loud room. The other girls had gone back to chatting.

"Well… Can I help you with something?"

"Oh! Um… Yeah! Actually…" Sandy turned about and tried to find Stan on the dance floor. The room was dimly lit but with the help of the disco ball mounted in the middle of the ceiling, she spotted him fairly easily in the conglomeration there. She pointed at him for Candace and Candace tilted her head to see what the attraction was. "See that guy over there?"

The other girl's eyes twinkled with familiarity.

"Mmhm! That's Max's friend who goes over there all the time!" Her beam radiated in the darkness. She put on a quizzical expression and glanced back to Sandy. "Say… Is he your brother? You look a lot alike!"

Sandy cringed at this final statement, making Candace laugh. It was a charming laugh, she noted.

"Unfortunately, yes…" she grumbled jokingly. Candace giggled on. "Anyway, he sooo likes you , I think 'cuz he's like, never been this shy around any other girl so I said I'd totally come and ask you to dance with him."

Candace looked away from the girl with a faint blush and scoped through all the dancers, still beaming until she came across Stan again, and mildly scowled. This confused Sandy.

"Uh… Isn't he already dancing with _that_ girl?" There was an element of hurt hidden in her frustrated voice. The chattering girls behind her had conveniently tuned back in and cackled as Sandy pivoted around to see, to her shock, disgust, and embarrassment , Stan dancing with Pashmina, dipping her low and trying to plant a kiss on her as she attempted to squirm away. Instead of flushing, Sandy merely sweat dropped to cover up her shame. She'd completely forgotten about setting those two up before hurrying over to talk to Candace so that she could hang out with Maxwell and the guys for the rest of the evening. She knew she had to think fast now or Stan would never tape her down again.

"W-well that's… _ourcousin_!" she stammered, biting her lower lip nervously. Candace gave her a doubtful frown. They didn't even look close to the same, Sandy realized. This made her cave. "Okay… So, she's like, not really our cousin… But, I think he's only dancing with her to make you jealous." Sandy grinned and patted herself on the back for such quick thinking even before she was aware of Candace's softened, excited look and big, brown puppy dog eyes. She walked away after the girls hadn't said anything and went on with her search for Maxwell.

* * *

Once she had finally gotten to where he was, back across the room by the stairs, and exchanged hellos, Bijou stepped up on a stool and hollered in her thick accent that a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven would shortly begin and that everyone had to participate or else be decreed a party-pooper by everybody else for the rest of eternity. Sure, it was a playful jeer, but both otherwise stubborn Sandy and Maxwell were compelled to go.

"Maybe we'll see each other during the game," he said, waving and drifting over to the side where the rest of the boys were. He obviously hadn't noticed her dress which made Sandy's heart beat happily, for even more unexplainable reasons. She smiled.

"Okay…"

Everyone had gathered together in a lop0sided circle around a bottle as Bijou crouched down and poised her paw on its neck to spin. Not a single hamster took their eyes off of the thing, as though it was holy, while the birthday girl explained the rules to the best of her ability to remember what her older sister had said how the game worked.

"Alvright! Virst, ze speener takes zis bottle and zey can only go vonce. Boys, eef a girl eez speening, you all spread out and ze other girls get een a line behind ze girl 'oo eez up so zey don't get landed on. 'ooever ze bottle points to 'as to go een ze closet vith 'ooever spun. Same goes vor ze girls. Now… Since eet's _my_ birthday, I vill go virst!" she giggled and winked at Hamtaro, who wasn't paying attention as usual.

Bijou gnawed on her bottom lip, anticipating as she twisted the bottle, putting it into notion. She closed her eyes in the same manner she had done while blowing out her candles earlier that day. The thing slowed after a moment. It could have landed on any one of those boys sprawled in front of her. It seemed even her friends felt nervous, for her or for themselves, knowing a player may only go once and their boy of choice may be landed on before they could get him. She could feel their breath on her shoulders. The bottle stopped and Bijou picked her head up to see who her partner was.

It was Stan, preparing himself with a flirty smile and some mint spray. Some in the crowd giggled from the irony. The white-furred maiden pouted slightly, her heart sunk.

"Umm… Stan, no offense to you, but… May I speen again?"

Stan looked slightly taken aback and was reluctant to answer. The other players looked annoyed at her. That was when Boss cut in, agitated, but in hope that if she went against, he would get landed on.

"Just let her do it, guys! She _is_ the birthday girl!"

Stan sighed quietly, smiling and all nodded at the bottle for her to re-spin. She gave Stan a gracious bow, leaning down again.

"Merci, everyone! Stan, you get to peek 'oo you go vith vor being so nice. You can go next, too."

A fat smirk appeared on Stan's face as he scanned through the cluster of young ladies. All were out of the question now except for Pashmina and Candace, who saw his eyes on her and flashed a quaint smile, waving to be courteous. The group dispersed to do their own thing again once Boss stormed off and Bijou led Hamtaro to the closet, already gripping his paw and pecking his blushing cheek madly. They all planned to return when someone else was to go. Stan darted through the rest of the party-goers trying to find either one of his candidates. He lucked out and both were in close range of each other. At that moment, Hamtaro and Bijou emerged from the closet, Bijou clinging onto him satisfied and blushing, and Hamtaro covered in glittery lip gloss kisses, confused as ever.

"Stan! Eet's your turn now!" Bijou giggled.

"Umm… I dunno who yet! Let someone else go now!" he shouted back over.

"Okee!"

"Hmm…" Stan rubbed his chin. I know how to figure this out!"

_Eenie, meenie, miney, moe/ Which girl would be willing to go?/ Pashy surely will say no/ But what about girl whose name I don't know?_

So, it was decided. He would go with Candace.

* * *

Stan had followed her into the bunch to watch the next player go up and narrowed his eyes warningly at all the other boys when he saw that his sister was going.

Howdy beamed toothily, chuckling to himself as Sandy hesitantly approached the bottle. Dexter nudged him.

What's so funny?" he questioned.

"Sandy's _up to bat_ and maybe she'll _get home_ this time… Yuk yuk yuk!"

Dexter rolled his eyes in repugnance, slapping the back of Howdy's head. "I highly doubt that. And that was completely uncalled for." He was startled as the bottle nearly pointed to him, inching past Cappy, and stopped on Maxwell.

Sandy smiled and Maxwell returned it calmly. Stan sighed in relief and walked off with everybody else to find Candace again. The baseball team hooted teasingly as Sandy huffed off to the closet, Maxwell walking carefully behind.

* * *

The young teenagers were broken up again into their own little groups. Stan stood by himself and two full cups at the punch bowl, contemplating on how to lure Candace over to him. He groaned. If only he knew her name so that he could call her over to him! But in a moment, it was as thought the gods were on his side and magnetized her toward the boy through thirst.

"Hey there," Stan said coolly to her. "I accidentally poured two drinks. Would you like to take one?"

Candace giggled shyly, smiling weakly after having settled down.

"Aww… Thank you! But, I'm allergic to red dye." Stan looked down, wounded. "But, if you would still like to get me a different drink, I'd take that!"

The boy's mouth curled up into a grin again. He wasted no time in retrieving a can of soda for her.

"Here you go, …" His expression indicated to her he wanted to know her name.

"Tehe. Candace," she answered his silent question. A heavy burden left him.

"So, _Candace_…" He draped an arm around her. "What do you say we go into that closet together?"

* * *

It was awfully dark in the secluded place and, though muffled, the music still blared from outside. Sandy found herself more comfortable in her for some reason, whether it was the reasonable quiet or Maxwell or otherwise. She figured it was mostly because no one could see her dress but for him, if he really wanted to. There was but two threads of light coming through the crack at the bottom and one of the sides of the door.

Sandy noticed this as the same time she had realized that Maxwell come very close to her. She could feel her pulse throughout her entire body just as if she had scored a home run and she began to perspire in spite of herself and the purple sequined dress she wore. It had only been commented on by the other's intrigued or amused stares. She didn't suspect Maxwell to be like this before.

"Ah!" Maxwell finally said, relieving Sandy. He'd seen something behind her.

"What-what is it?" she asked , still shaken by the near encounter of their mouths. Her friend turned on his reading light. She laughed at him and he ignored her.

"It looks like a spider's web."

"Oh cool!" Sandy swung herself around to see. She admired its glint and glittering iridescence as Maxwell repositioned his light over different parts of the large silken masterpiece. A wave of thrill and fear came over her. "It's like, really big… Do you totally think it's a poisonous spider's?"

Maxwell looked at her thoughtfully and shook his head.

"Seem to me it simply belongs to a _Tengenaria Domesticus_." The girl tilted her head to the side, whispering: Heke? "A common house spider."

"Ohh…! Ya know, we don't like, really get spiders at my house."

Maxwell frowned slightly.

"Dirty places attract bugs for spiders to eat. Your mom must keep your house too clean, then. That's not good."

"Haha! Tell that to _her_!"

The boy smiled and looked down, turning off his light again. It grew quiet.

"I wonder how long it's been…" He sighed.

"Only like, a few minutes," Sandy judged.

"Hmm…" Maxwell tried to think of something to pass the time and get rid of the awkwardness of being in a closet with Sandy for a supposed couple party game. "Wanna look at this new book I got the other day? It's about pirates!"

Sandy smiled and nodded, not being able to refuse him after hearing his enthusiasm as he sat down on the floor of the closet and switched his light on once more. He offered her a paw, but she merely plopped down next to him and immediately began to read for a while. Slowly, the girl lowered her head down onto his shoulder. It wasn't something she normally did, both of them know, but Maxwell didn't seem to mind it. He pet her head gently as they read on about an epic battle with a ship of rogue pirates against a murderous sea monster. Sandy shut her eyes, drowsy from the darkness, and smiled feebly.

The friends, in their little corner all huddled up, found themselves rather comfortable, so close to each other. Maxwell was in pure heaven with the girl and his book by his side. Sandy though, she found herself oddly enough, in Limbo…

* * *

When the butler came down to tell the twins their mother had arrived to pick them up, Sandy hurried to the door. She zoomed past Maxwell, whom she hadn't talked to since after they'd gotten out of the closet. He didn't even say goodbye. But, thinking about it, Sandy wasn't sure if she would have either. She felt a secret anger towards the boy that she couldn't even explain to herself. As she moved closer to her sanctuary of the front door, she spied numerous tote bags in the foyer. Sandy knew Bijou had invited all of her female guests to stay over for the night except for her. This added to her feeling of rejection.

'_It's just a dumb sleepover. I'm so not missing out on anything._' the girl consoled herself bitterly.

She finally reached the car and slammed the door to the back left side. It wasn't unusual for her to do so, and not a surprise to her mother either, but something in the degree of which she shut it told the woman her daughter was unhappy. She supposed it was simply the dress. She began to say something to make sure this was the case when Stan had eventually floated over in his daze. The radio came back from commercials. Sandy scowled with her arms crossed.

… _The way you look at me_

_is kind of like a little sister _

_Not like a good vice_

_and it leaves me nothing but blisters…_

"Gosh! Why do they always have to ruin songs on here by playing them too much?" she grumbled crankily, loosely pulling herself into a ball in her seat.

"Does something have you bummed out, honey?" her mother asked softly. Sandy yawned.

"No." she sighed, unfolding herself and stretching. "I'm just a little tired, that's all…"

_-.-.-_


	4. Chapter Four: Shenanigans

One of The Boys

Chapter Four: Shenanigans

A few lazy summer days had passed by until it had been a week since Sandy last spoke to Maxwell. Their coach was on vacation and let the team have a break until he returned because of their good performance during practices, giving Sandy no excuse to see him. She had even hoped to bump into the boy at the Laundromat, remembering that his parents owned their own washing machine and dryer. Sandy's parents did too, but the washer was on the fritz and there was no use calling someone to fix it, it was so old. They would get one next month.

Stan rode his skateboard over to Maxwell's every day after noon, that was certain. He'd often times stay there for supper, occasionally not going back home until the next morning. Maxwell almost never came over there unless it was for a school project he and Stan were working on.

On one particular Thursday, Sandy played outside near the house with the hose and saw her brother pull his bike out of the garage. Confused for a moment, the girl remembered he needed a wheel replaced on his board after a bloody accident on the curb at the end of their road which left him scraped and concussed; and how her parents had scolded him for not wearing his helmet. He wasn't at that moment, either, she noticed with a short laugh.

She dropped the rubber serpent without turning the water off and headed over towards him.

"Hey! Are you like, going over to Max's?" Stan looked at her like she was dumb.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Just… Tell him I said 'hi', kay?" she mumbled sullenly.

"Why don't you come over with me?" Stan asked. Sandy thought the unusually warm invitation was odd and couldn't think of a reason why not to, so she jumped onto the back of the bicycle and balanced on its homemade pegs.

* * *

No knocks were needed to get into Maxwell's house. His parents weren't there during the day and he always left the back door unlocked for anyone who wanted to come in. Upon arrival, the smell of fresh pizza wafted up to the twins' noses, making Stan drool. He entered the living room where Maxwell was laying down and reading- a new paperback, Sandy noticed, and listening to some classical mumbo jumbo. Whether it was Beethoven or Mozart, neither one could ever tell.

Stan picked up the remote on top of the couch and turned off the stereo, causing his friend to glance up from his book in surprise, seeing Stan and beaming. To his further astonishment, Sandy was there too.

"Well hi, Stan! Hi, Sandy!" he greeted, sitting upright to make room for them. Sandy hopped onto the couch, falling down on her bottom while Stan hurdled the furniture. Maxwell laughed. "You guys are lucky my parents aren't here."

"Are we!" Stan yowled through a mouth full of veggie pizza he'd snagged from the box on the coffee table near the sofa. Sandy sweat dropped.

"Stan, you like, sooo just ate lunch before you came here! You'll totally get sick eating so much," she cautioned.

Her brother sheepishly giggled.

"It's alright, Sandy!" Maxwell said with a smile. "I figured he'd come over and finish it anyway. You can have a piece too, if you want."

"Ah. No, thanks!" Sandy passed, allowing Stan to scarf down the last piece.

Stan flopped back down on the couch and let out a low, airy burp. His eyes scanned the plain beige room until he found what he had sought after in the cabinet under the television. It was the only flashy thing in the very neat room, so it didn't take long at all.

"Oh, dude! Sweet! I say it's time for some video games!"

He scurried over to the entertainment center and snagged the game controller which lay in the compartment directly under the big screen TV. Maxwell reached beside himself for his, simultaneously with Sandy. Their paws touched.

Maxwell quickly recoiled his, flushing.

"I'm sorry. I almost forgot you were here," he confessed, scratching the back of his head. "You can use it. We can take turns."

Sandy shook her head, smiling at the proposed deal.

"No, it's totally alright if like, just you and Stan play. I'll watch! Go ahead before he totally gets too antsy."

"I want you to play though," he said in a serious tone, looking at her unwaveringly. "We can be a team again." The look in his eyes told Sandy that he missed baseball already.

She found it hard to understand why someone who had hardly mastered something could be so fanatical, so infatuated with it. At that moment, she realized just how important the sport was to him and the amount of value he had put on her being a part of his team since they were much younger. Sandy vowed to herself then to aid him in not only killing mutants or stealing cars, but to refine him at baseball, after seeing his great interest in it which gave her the spark of inspiration to do so. She finally agreed with a slap of paws.

They set to work on the game.

* * *

It was a quarter 'til five when the phone rang from the kitchen. Maxwell waited his customary three rings then paused the game to answer it.

"Hello? Oh! Hi, Mr. Williams! How are you?"

"It's our dad?" Stan asked hoarsely as he sat up, getting shushed by the other boy.

"Aha? Do you want to talk to them? No? Alright. Should I tell them it's urgent? Okay. I will. You have a nice day too, sir. Goodbye."

"Like, out with it, Max! What did he want?" Sandy asked, looking up at him and playing with her toes.

Maxwell hung up slowly, pallid, and reported to the other two who then stared at him more intensely after a moment of silence.

"I think you guys should better go now… Your mom and dad sounded pretty upset."

* * *

Upon seeing her folks on the porch with crumpled brows and soaking wet legs, Sandy knew she was a dead girl walking. The children smiled at their parents, but their parents didn't smile back this time. Their faces showed they expected more, expected answers. Answers only the twins could possibly give them. The two sauntered over, heads hung low, only half-knowing what was going on.

"Could one of you explain to me why the hose was left on?" their father asked irritably. Stan hastily pointed a finger at Sandy.

"She was playing with it!"

Sandy's mouth was agape in horror and disgust at her brother. She thought about giving him a brisk shove but didn't, figuring she was in enough trouble. The adults shot the female twin a look which conveyed their desire for an explanation.

"Yeah, I had it out. I was like, in too much of a hurry to shut it off. I totally don't see what the big deal is! I just watered the grass a little too much. So?" Her father sighed.

"SO… You didn't only water the grass, Sandy. Because of your carelessness, there are _four_ inches of water throughout the whole basement." *

It took a while for the words to sink in for both Sandy and Stan. Sandy was left speechless, feeling the guilt chew at her gut.

"I-I'm so sorry…"was the only thing she could muster.

"We know you are, honey. But now we have a lot of work to do this weekend to fix it all up. Your dad's going to have to take tomorrow off just to do this."

"The whole family has got to pitch in, guys."

"Even if this is all _sis's_ fault?" Stan asked his mother sourly.

"It was an accident, Stanley, and she'll get her fair share. Don't worry about that." Stan kept a glower on his sister. "And, Sandy. You know what has to happen to you because of this, right?"

The young teenager shook her head.

"Umm… I like, clean half of the basement by myself and we forget this ever happened?" she laughed wryly. Her parents bitterly smiled.

"I wish it would work that way, Sandy, but no. Forgetting is what got us in this mess in the first place. You _will_ have to help a lot in the cellar, sure, but also… You're grounded."

"_G-grounded?" _Sandy whimpered. Stan let out a tiny squeal, earning himself dirty looks from the other three. Because neither of the twins had ever been punished in such a way, it was new to all of them. Sandy and Stan's father played by ear from what he remembered his own parents doing.

"Yes, grounded…" he started. "Grounded from GameBoy, TV, computer, phone, and talking to or visiting friends outside of baseball." As he said this, he felt he had gone slightly overboard with the penance. But it was too late now to tell her otherwise, so he remained firm in his decision.

Sandy groaned, bug-eyed, but was relieved that her parents had left her baseball.

"For how long?" she questioned.

"Two weeks."

Alright, so maybe it was a little worse than she'd braced herself for. She reminded herself again that she still had baseball.

"Okay…"

"This is only to teach you to be more conscientious, sweetheart." The girl's mother gave her forehead a kiss as gentle as her voice. Sandy scowled, sighing. "Now, let's go in. I'm sure supper's ready by now."

* * *

Mealtime was a graveyard, everyone was so still and quiet. The cabbage was too chewy, having been left to cook for so long, but that wasn't what everybody was worried about. The bigger issue was the stagnant pool a floor underneath them. Between the flood, the cabbage, and the awkward silence, dinner had not gone well.

Each family member had cleaned their plate without saying a word. Sandy and Stan's mother took all of their plates with the assistance of their father. They washed solemnly as the children sat, wondering how to make the situation better.

In the midst of this eerie silence, Sandy's cheek felt cold. She touched it with a finger and inspected the blue liquid, identifying it as the juice she'd had with her food. Just then, Stan nudged her and directed his head towards the door to show he wanted to go outside while it was still light out. In his paws was a foam football. Her mother watched closely from her post at the sink as Sandy went to dry her face and stopped the girl halfway through lifting her shirt collar to her mouth with an abrupt clatter.

"Sandy Elaine!" she boomed. Sandy knew she was in a big enough dilemma as it was so she looked up at her mother innocently, trembling as the woman walked over. She plucked a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table and handed it to her with a weak smile. "Here. Stop using your clothes."

"Thanks, mom!" Sandy grabbed the napkin from her and proceeded to blow her nose with it, wiping her face with her sleeve and running off with Stan afterwards.

"Ugh!" Her mother grumbled, sinking into a chair and sweat dropped.

-.-.-

*"four inches" as in hamster inches. Haha. If it were people inches, they'd all be dead, probably.


	5. Chapter Five: After the Flood

One of the Boys

Chapter Five: After the Flood

Sandy just couldn't get herself to sleep that night. The restlessness of knowing her restricted freedoms ate at her constantly and her father's words bumbled around inside her head.

_No GameBoy, no TV…_ She could deal with that. She'd find ways around to be able to watch her shows.

_Grounded from the computer, the telephone…_ That wasn't a big deal, either. She only used the computer to e-mail her grandmother and to play games on rainy days and she rarely ever spoke on the phone.

But then there was still the other thing…

_No talking to or visiting friends outside of baseball._

Granted, Sandy didn't interact with most of her team on a daily basis anyway besides practice during the summer. Only Maxwell, really, when Stan would let her tag along. However, simply the thought of being forbidden from them frustrated the girl to no end. So, to ease her herself, she tried thinking of what she _could still do. _

"_Hmm…"_

Well, she could always shoot hoops, unless of course their basketball was deflated, which she had the sinking feeling it was. It was summertime, so no sledding or taking out the rectangular bucket to make snow forts. They didn't own a pool, so that was out, and despite having the equipment and the right weather most days, tennis, since the court at the park around the bend was being renovated.

Sandy grumbled and let out a weighty sigh, turning onto her other side with a pout. Her heart sank deeper at realizing she would have to suffer two weeks of this pure discontentment. Stan would more than likely rub it in her face, too.

While contemplating all of this, a kind of thought, more so a memory, hit her. Not all was lost! For underneath her bed was a treasure chest of excitement, stocked up from months and years passed by, laying dormant for her, as if having planned for a time like this. A mystic container like that of Pandora's box.

She just had to wait until morning to find it.

* * *

The evening prior had left Sandy weary and she didn't rise until the stifling brightness from the sun poured through her windows. It was almost noon. Groggily, she rolled out of her cocoon of blankets and lied there on the floor for a moment, gazing listlessly under her bed, when it suddenly aroused the girl- her mission from last night.

With a jolt and a rapid burst of energy, she dove through a gap and squeezed herself in between the carpet and the bed frame with a grunt.

The world beneath Sandy's bed was chaotic and foul. Throughout it were a few wads of dirty socks all balled up and stiff with old sweat and time. And there were many unwanted gifts such as a Barbie doll she'd gotten one Christmas and roughly a dozen frilly and/or pink diaries from her relatives who lived far away and could only guess at the twins' ages. Age. All they knew really was that Stan was older. Near the journals was a pretend make-up kit. There was a dusty coffee can of marbles and a stack of photographs to the side of the mess as well, and when she moved those out of the way, she found the ancient pizza crust whose mold has been stinking up her room since about three weeks after school let out.

After tossing that into her personal trashcan, it didn't take much time for Sandy to find what it was she had searched for and she grabbed at it vigorously, pulling it to her chest and emitting a uncharacteristic squeal of joy.

"Aha! Yes!" The young teenager's eyes lit up at seeing the precious thing. Her fingers hungrily tore at its lid. "Come to mama…"

Finally, after some prying and much anticipation, the box was open.

* * *

Sandy had a look of satisfaction on her face at seeing all of the items from her box strewn upon the floor and half of her bed. She leapt upon her mattress and took inventory of all that was on it.

Poppers, firecrackers, two handheld squirt guns, and water balloons both loose or still in their package were just a few of the things she had jammed into that ratty cardboard contraption. Sandy picked up the slingshot beside her and pulled back its elastic, grinning. All of this stuff would last her the duration of her grounding and then some.

Not ten minutes had gone by before the girl heard her brother clump down the stairs in his tennis shoes, most likely going outside to head over to Maxwell's house. In haste, she snatched up one of the squirt guns and ran for the bathroom sink to fill it up, descending the stairs coyly, and figuring Stan was still inside because she hadn't heard the front door close.

When it did, Sandy darted for the living room window, since it was the closest to their garage. She opened it just far enough to protrude her head and arm and closed one eye, ready to fire. As Stan pulled his bike out with trouble, the girl aimed and right before he mounted it, she shot.

"Augh!" Stan cried, nearly falling from his bicycle. He heard Sandy's cackling from the right of him and glared at her.

"Sorry!" she yelled over with a song in her tone and a smirk on her lips. He simply looked at her after wiping off some of the moisture, crossing his arms, and sneered.

"Aren't you in enough trouble because of water?"

* * *

"Sandy, could you call over to Max's and have him send your brother home, please? We're going to start back up with the basement now that your father's brought things to get the water out of there. Oh! And it looks like the neighbors came over to help, too!"

The young teen glanced up at her mother who was standing on her tip-toes and peering out the window from where she sat at the kitchen table and brought down her feet. She had surreptitiously set them on the edge of it. Her mother sighed but let it go since Sandy was already at the telephone, dialing it with no usual protest or smart remark that she had been grounded from it.

"Hello?" came a soft utterance on the other end.

"Hi, Maxwell!"

"Oh. Hey, Sandy! How are you?" She giggled to herself at how polite the kid always was.

"I'm good. Pretty bored, though. Haha."

"Ah, yeah… I'm sorry to hear about what happened over there. Stan told me all about it." It was amazing how Maxwell sounded as sincere on the phone as he did in person. He didn't only sound it- he was.

"Eh." The girl swatted at the air, even though she knew he couldn't see. "Shit happens."

"Sandy Elaine! Watch your language!" A deliberate crack on the wrist was all Sandy received for punishment from her livid mother. Maxwell chuckled friendlily.

"Yeah. I guess."

"Well, hey. I was like, calling you to ask if you could maybe tell Stan to come home 'cause we're working on the basement again."

"Mn! Alright! I'll do that."

"Okay. So, I kinda gotta go now. Thanks!"

"No problem, Sandy!"

"Bye." Click.

Sandy placed the telephone back in its cradle and returned to her chair, slouching and watching the wind gently blow at the trees through the window. Her mother was washing dishes from their lunch.

"That Maxwell is a really good kid," she said over the running faucet.

"Yeah. He's pretty cool," Sandy agreed, trying not to sound too enthused.

"I really like him. Couldn't ask for a better friend for your brother." The woman looked down at the plate she was drying and smiled warmly. "Keeps him out of trouble," she added with a laugh.

Sandy joined her, nodding and blushing lightly.

"Mmhm… I think he's totally great."

"He is. He should come over more often… You two seem to get along, don't you?"

"Yeah. We do." The girl smiled, half-relieved somehow that Maxwell didn't visit as frequently as her mother wished. Particularly lately. Things just felt more tense between them, at least on her side if not his.

"That's nice." The woman hung up her cloth on the knob of a cabinet abreast to the sink and dried her paws. "Well, let's go out there and see the neighbors."

* * *

Not much small talk between the adults went on because soon Stan had ridden into the driveway. He didn't return by himself, though. Peddling behind him was Maxwell, panting and wearing a blue helmet. The twins' parents smiled at the boy but frowned at their son in dismay. Sandy knew they would have a talk with him about that after Maxwell had left, especially because of his accident some days before then.

All nine hamsters (since Panda and Cappy came with their parents to help) prepared themselves to go down into the ankle-deep water by putting on boots. The men carried a ShopVac with them and the rest took towels, empty plastic boxes, and garbage bags for salvage or for the curb.

Stan and his father worked on sucking up as much water as they could with the vacuum and emptied the cartridge when it had gotten full while the rest deciphered whether or not what they were picking up was worth saving. If it was, it got put in a box, and if it wasn't, it was tossed in a garbage bag. Nobody dared to make a choice until the twins' mother had inspected what it was they had and determined for them. Sandy thought it was funny how her mother was such a packrat yet could keep the house so neat throughout.

None of them talked as they worked. In fact, the only noises in the room were the sloshing of feet through the water and rustling of bags once the vacuum was taken out by Stan for a second time to be dumped out. Sandy grabbed all she could from a rocking and welted shelf before it could have the chance to topple on her, but she ended up brushing against it anyway. Maxwell saw this and hurried over, using his whole body to prop it up again. Sandy smiled appreciatively and aided him in setting it back to its original position against the wall. She could hear her mother sobbing a few feet away after seeing a crate of the children's handiwork and photos done in school disintegrated from the water. Still no one said a word.

A little over an hour and a half later, the group decided to call it a day. Fans were placed in all the corners of the cellar to continue drying the still wet floor. The vacuum had picked up all the water it could, and the objects that were left inhabiting there would be safe until they could be relocated or put where they once were.

* * *

The grown-ups hung around on the landing of the garage and discussed the matters of which were unimportant for the children. They, therefore, sat on the steps of the porch sipping lemonade and water provided by Sandy and Stan's mother. Cappy was sticky head to foot from spilling his drink and had orange goo all over his face as a cause of his four-year-old self not being coordinated enough to handle a popsicle. It was blisteringly hot, but not humid, Maxwell had pointed out.

"It's gonna be a nasty game…" Panda speculated with a frown and swiped at the crown of sweat beads that had formed around his brow.

"Mn. But it'll still be fun!" Sandy said, grinning.

"I just hope nobody has a heat stroke. Did you know that fifteen hamsters die a year from those?"

Stan groaned teasingly, laughing and smacking Maxwell's back.

"Thanks for that info, walking encyclopedia."

"Any time!" Maxwell beamed in delight.

A faraway call reached them from over where the adults were. Panda bent forward, picking up his mother's voice.

"What was that, Mom?"

Her request came stronger.

"You and Cappy come over here! We have to get your things ready for the game and clean him up, it looks like!"

"Okay!" Panda replied, taking his little brother's grubby paw. "Well, we have to go now. I'll see you all at the game."

"Bye, Panda!"

"Bye-Q!"

"See ya later, dude!" Stan waved farewell as Panda ripped Cappy's thumb out of his mouth on their walk over to their parents.

"I'm really sorry about that, Tabby. I had no idea he wasn't allowed to have a popsicle," Sandy's mother apologized, blushing.

"Oh no! It's okay. Really." the other woman replied, waving it off. "He's just a very messy eater and we don't have much time today."

"I see." She still felt embarrassed.

"Well, we have to head out now! I'll talk with you more at the game!"

"Alright! Thanks again for all your family's help!"

"It's a pleasure! What are good neighbors for anyway?" Panda's father said, shaking paws with the twin's father and leading his wife and children away.

The remaining three approached Sandy and Stan's parents, who greeted them kindly. Their mother was fanning herself with a paw.

"So, kids… Are you ready for your first game?" she asked. Sandy knew the woman would have been more enthusiastic if it weren't for the weather and had directed the question towards she and Maxwell.

"Mmhm!" Maxwell smiled broadly and nodded.

"I am pumped!" Sandy cheered, hopping on her toes slightly.

There was a short beat before a timid Maxwell posed his own query.

"U-uhh…" The boy cleared his throat. "Mister Williams?"

"Yes, son?"

Maxwell flushed at this; a spark of happiness went through him.

"Would it be okay if I got there with you guys?"

"Oh, sure, Max! It'd be just fine!" the twins' father answered, grinning. Sandy was struck by how much Stan's grin took after the man's.

"Do you need to run home to get your things? We could give you a ride…" Mrs. Williams offered.

"I really appreciate the hospitality, but I already brought my gear with me!" Maxwell laughed pleasantly, bowing his head somewhat to show his thanks.

"Now see, Stan? You wouldn't have to run around like a chump all the time if you'd just pack your things with you when you went over to his place." the woman commented.

"Yeah, yeah…" Stan huffed, getting the fur on his head ruffled by his father. He peered up at him. "But, since we're already asking questions, is it cool if I invite Candace to the game with us, Dad?"

Sandy snickered at her brother, causing his blush to deepen.

"That's okay. I think we should have enough seats. Yeah! You can ask her real quick before we go," he gave an answer, winking.

"I'm sure you won't have to worry about that," Maxwell interjected, rubbing some mud off of his ankle with the back of his paw. "She's already going with her dad."

"She is?" The older boy affirmed this with a nod.

"Guessing that they're coming to watch you, huh Max?"

"Yes, ma'am." Maxwell answered the twins' father and shuffled uncomfortably, expectantly, as if knowing what was already coming next. Sandy had the gut feeling she knew what it was too.

Both adults glanced at each other, then back on their son's friend, not quite smiling yet not wearing any frowns all at once. Sandy's mother hummed a sigh, voiding her inquiry. Her father, on the other hand, stood perplexed. Neither did ask of the whereabouts of Maxwell's parents, seeing the relief in the boy's face after a moment.

"So, you said her pops was coming, too?" Stan probed, gulping.

* * *

Maxwell had read the dictionary through twice now and even he could tell someone that the word 'hectic' did not come near to describing the rush the Williams family went through preparing to leave before a game.

The twins' mother busily mixed a pitcher of whatever it was that was in the cupboard while stuffing snacks into a bag which she had quickly crammed in sun block, an umbrella, and bug spray before that. Stan and Sandy's father got out the lawn chairs and hauled them into the trunk of the car as she did this. It was either one of both of the children who scrambled around to gather their stuff. Today, Stan lounged in his bed, making sure there was nothing in his teeth.

Sandy ran across her room to grab her mitt, then back again to snatch up her shoes and bat. After was her helmet, then she found her team hat. The hunt for her equipment took less time then than ever since she had already gotten her uniform on. Sandy patted herself on the back for such a speedy job and rewarded herself a minute to admire her cap before putting it on.

Sure, it was just a hat, the girl knew, but she liked it more than those from the years before. She liked the way it felt on her head, she liked its color, the stitching in the front was so rigid and intimidating in its shape of a flashy blue H. Sandy traced the letter carefully with the tip of a finger and beamed. Her mother hollered up the stairs for her to join them outside.

"Just a minute!" she reassured loudly, slinging her duffle bad over one shoulder and jogging out.

About mid-way down the first flight, a thought crossed her. She darted back to her bedroom and scattered the things she'd left atop her mattress until she came to what it was that had called for her to return. Sandy then headed to the porch and ran the length of her driveway, barreling into the car and landing next to Maxwell. Stan looked over at her briefly while the vehicle went into motion.

"Pssst! Max!" Sandy whispered through the side of her mouth. Once she knew she had gotten his attention, the girl dropped a walkie talkie into his lap.

-.-.-


	6. Chapter Six: Sweet Victory

One of The Boys

Chapter Six: Sweet Victory

A dry breeze stirred up miniature dust devils on the infield, intensifying the heat of the arid park on that late July evening. The crowd of friends, siblings, and parents sweltered in their places on the benches or in their lawn chairs. It was almost too hot to play.

Sandy tried to work up another wad of mucus to spit while her mother and father weren't watching and could feel the crunchy particles from the field in her saliva. Her turn to pitch for the warm-up drill had finally come, so she spat on the mound, observing closely how quickly the gob of spittle evaporated in the unusually muggy weather.

The setting sun was oddly intense as well, and Sandy could see her mother adjusting her umbrella so as to not get burnt. Stan sunk down in his chair, humiliated while she did so and Candace laughed loud enough for Sandy to hear from her place in the field. She was the only one there to root for Maxwell that night besides her father and of course the twins' parents. It made Sandy feel bad, thinking about how busy Maxwell's parents always were. She herself could hardly remember what they even looked like, it had been so long.

'_They have more important things to do._' The girl remembered overhearing Maxwell justifying to her brother their very first game years before. She wondered if it had ever made sense to him, either.

Coach whistled at Sandy to throw the ball, breaking her from this daze. She looked at the batter quickly, seeing that it was Maxwell, wagging his body in all different directions, and smiled. He returned it with a challenging look and she chucked the ball to him with all of her might.

Before the game started, she snuck into the port-a-potty and taped herself down.

* * *

It was the fourth inning and Sandy's team was up by one. The game had gone by slowly up until then. Now, the bases were loaded with Dexter on first, Panda on second, and Boss on third. All were heavily covered with a baseman breathing down their necks. Boss took off his batting helmet and dabbed at his forehead with a uniform sleeve. Surprisingly, there was nothing underneath. The whole team knew baseball was the only occasion he took his beloved accessory off for.

"Hey, Sandy. Do you want a piece of gum?" one of the girl's teammates offered her a nicely foil-wrapped stick as she stood up. She shook her head no and smiled thankfully, despite her dislike of the popular sport commodity, slipping on her helmet and heading toward the field.

To the side of her as she walked up to plate, Sandy could hear one of the other team's members report her to the umpire like every other game. It was either that or a disgruntled parent. And like every other game the umpire explained that Sandy was in fact allowed to play. She brushed it off, spit out her sunflower seed shells, and kicked up some dirt to powder her cleats.

The pitcher was stalling. After a moment of posing and getting glared at by Sandy, he threw. It was a curveball that went down and to the left. Had it been ay closer, it would have hit Sandy, giving her a walk. The umpire called it a ball.

Somewhat petrified by the force put behind that last pitch, Sandy locked in her stance, putting all her attention on the boy and the ball- how he wound up, to where and how hard he would toss it… Then came the second pitch. It was a bit high, but Sandy knew it was in her range. She took a swing and nicked the baseball, sending it backwards and over the cage.

"Strike one!" the umpire bellowed.

Groans came from the home side while clapping, away. Sandy fumed and clenched her teeth angrily. Only Maxwell, in the dug-out, said nothing. He simply kept smiling on at his team.

'_I coulda __**sworn**__ that was a foul…_' Sandy huffed.

The unofficial ball boy, Cappy, waddled over speedily to where the ball landed and retrieved it. He then proceeded to pass it to the opposing team's coach, who chucked it to his pitcher, flashing a hand signal to him which no one caught. The boy pulled at his cap and nodded, his sights on Sandy with a burning passion. Girl or not, he wanted her out and would get her out, ruin the team's chance at another run, and end the inning with her having no pride.

Or so he thought.

Certainly, another strike was called on Sandy. A total miss this time. Then she hit two fouls. None of her teammates on the bases dared to move until she had hit it far enough out for a clean getaway. None of them wanted to get the third out.

All eyes were on the girl now and a stiff quietness had fallen all about. Sandy spit on her glove and rubbed it against the other, picking up her bat again which she had propped against her outstretched leg and gripped it with every ounce of power in her body. Her gaze connected with the pitcher's and in an instant, the ball was soaring at her, hard and fast.

…

CRACK!

There was contact and the ball flew off into the center of the outfield. Frantic, the two nearest players both called for the ball, yet neither halted, ending up rammed into one another which brought an uproar from the spectators with their continual applause. Boss shuffled to home plate, Panda in pursuit. Panda made it to where Boss was and slickly stole home. Sandy took off.

"Go, go, go, Dexter! Like, what do you think you're doing!" an out of breath Sandy urged her peer to move to second once she had gotten to where she needed to be. He had been standing there on the white chalk line, gawking at the latest happening in the game and jogged over, finally making it there just as one of the outfielders attempted to tag him out.

It was then all up to Maxwell to see if Dexter would make the third run of that inning. He shakily trudged up to the plate, keeping himself still and erect unlike how he was in his usual loose pose. The pitcher smirked, looking at him. An easy out, he determined, winding up and seemingly shooting the ball at Maxwell from a cannon. He flinched at feeling the intensity in just the air that the ball had made.

"Strike one," the umpire announced, half-expecting this to happen.

Maxwell rolled his shoulders, swinging the bat lightly and sweated. The fear in his eyes was eminent and Sandy yelled over to him the best she could with a parched throat.

"You can do it, Max! Come on, now!" She pounded a gloved fist into her other paw and grinned encouragingly to the boy. From behind came the cheers of Candace, Tom, and the other Williams'. He glanced over his shoulder at them feebly smiling and gulped, turning his attention to the pitcher again.

Shoosh! Right past him.

"Strike two!"

Sandy's teammate was beginning to fret and she could tell he was about ready to snap. She cupped a paw on her cheek by the side of her mouth and was ready to call to him once more when Boss piped up.

"Pretend the ball's a kid with a lighter about to burn your book collection!"

Sandy laughed in glee at this remark, knowing that had ought to have gotten Maxwell.

There was a fire in the boy's eyes and with the next pitch, he bunted.

Dexter walked to third base, still wheezing from his last dash, and arrived there at the same time Maxwell got to his. Sandy was in transit to second while the third baseman picked up the ball, prepared to lob it over the preceding area to get Sandy out. The girl had a sinking feeling of this trap and looked and moved on hopelessly. It was on her to get Dexter home. She tried to formulate a plan.

"Dexter, run! Max, stay there!" she instructed her teammates. She hoped it would work.

They did as told, putting the boy with the baseball in a predicament. He stared blankly, bobbing his head from left to right and Sandy laughed, trying to hide her relief, nearly at second.

"Get four-eyes out!" the pitcher screeched, as panicked as his fellow team member. The boy went to throw in the direction of home plate, but Dexter had already gone through, so he promptly turned himself about and tried getting Sandy.

Sandy landed on second before the boy could fling to his comrade and felt pretty safe until she realized as they did that her right foot was not on the puffy white dust-covered pad. She was quick to spring toward third, but as she neared there, the boy caught the ball, stomping a foot to the base. Sandy took a sharp turn back and tumbled flat on the ground, groaning and favoring her right ankle. Despite her obvious injury, the pitcher clapped for the ball and marched over, touching it to her elevated shoulder. The fans booed.

"You're out," he said.

"I… Know…" Sandy replied, grunting and lifted herself up to everyone's joy and alleviation. The umpire concluded the inning.

"What a girl," the opposing team's pitcher jeered.

"Dude. Shut up. You wouldn't have gotten up that fast," his teammate said.

"Yeah. You'd have even whined for someone to come help you up!" another one commented. Both sped up, leaving him on the field.

The pitcher scowled and folded his arms, watching as Sandy limped away with the rest of her team unassisted.

* * *

Sandy rested long ways on the bench, her leg propped up, her back to the wall, and a frown on her face. Coach said she would have to sit out the rest of the game, unless she got better or something else happened.

From under her cap, she could see someone else in the cool area of the dug-out. Their shadow was petite and their movements graceful for even when they sat down next to Sandy, the bench didn't lurch but merely creaked as old wood does.

"Hey you." It was Candace and she put a paw on the other girl's knee. Sandy looked up at her and smiled.

"Hi, Candace. 'Sup?"

"Just wanted to see if you were feeling okay," she answered meekly. "You looked pretty hurt."

"Nah. Only like, twisted it. I'm more pissed that I can't play."

Candace giggled, shaking her head.

"You're funny like your brother." was her remark. Sandy gagged playfully.

"Oh please don't like, compare us!"

Candace's laughter grew in playful spite of Sandy and she grinned, bending over to hug her.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again!" she said through her snickering.

Without knowing and without meaning to, Sandy took a whiff of the girl in their embrace. What a beautiful smell! Sandy noticed she rather preferred this scent, a lot of scents, since getting reaccustomed to a clean-odored bedroom. Candace sat back up.

"I definitely could not be able to do what you do, Sans. I mean, running's okay, but I can't hit a ball for crap! Haha. And gosh, dealing with boys all the time… And their roughness… And their stink. You must really like baseball!"

Sandy breathed in deeply through her nose and caught the offensive stench which lingered in the dug-out even when no one was in it. Self-conscious , she pretended to rub the side of her face with her arm and sniffed there to check herself. Grimacing displeasingly, she gazed back at Candace almost ashamedly.

"Yeah. It takes a lot, but I totally love this sport."

Candace nodded, now closely watching the game.

"I can tell!" she began, still not turning her head to Sandy. "The way you sacrificed yourself for my cousin was… It's what a real player would do. And I think it was just plain unfair how that jerk tagged you like that. I hope he sees how good a player you are next to him!"

The girl of which the compliment was directed toward tilted her head down bashfully. Normally, she developed an ego in situations such as these, but perhaps she had hurt her head in that fall too.

"Aww… Thanks, Candace."

The brunette beamed, patting her shoulder.

"I'm only telling you what I see," she sincerely replied. In the distance, the umpire called the inning. "Well, better leave before the stink parade comes in! Teehee." The girl stood, bumping into the icy object she'd had behind her and picked it up. "Here," she said, presenting the red sports drink to Sandy, holding it cautiously as though the dye would seep through the plastic bottle and touch her. "Your mom wanted to give you this so I took it over since Stan was being lazy." Her giggle and face showed she was only teasing the other twin, despite his absence.

Sandy imitated Candace's smile and thanked her as she rushed away. The rest of her team scrambled into the dug-out to drink and get new orders. The young teen sensed there was a head missing and her coach verified this with his next request after she'd counted.

"Sandy, you pitch this game closed. Dexter's having a hard time breathing and his mom's taking him home to get his inhaler. You up for it?"

The boys stared anxiously at their female teammate as she leapt up on her good leg.

"I'm always up for it!" she hollered, earning cheers, and hobbled onto the field.

* * *

It ended in their favor. The score was eight to six. Sandy struck out the other team's starters and Boss got another run to secure the win. The only thing this called for was a trip to the ice cream parlor.

Sandy fidgeted in her sports bra, pulling at the damp tape beneath it through her uniform. She partly wished that Maxwell had decided to ride with his relatives, but knew he had to go back with them to get his bike from the house.

How awkward would it be, him seeing her do that? Would he mind? It was a weak tape job done rather hurriedly and by herself, though she usually did alright on her own, given the time. Perhaps she could simply tug at it and pull it out through her sleeve. Would he even notice then? Sandy couldn't decide if she would want him to notice her or not for they had arrived at the establishment. Stan hurried out of the car, most likely to meet up with Candace, and Sandy could see the look of abandonment on Maxwell's face. She unbuckled her seatbelt and tapped the boy for him to come along.

The adults clustered together out of the children's way as was the tradition. Those who had younger children went inside and ordered with them. Tom searched the expanse of the building from his place by a shrub, growing more afraid with each passing second he couldn't see his daughter. Sandy and Stan's parents strolled over to where he was, giving the worrisome man a smile.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Fox?" the twins' father inquired at seeing Tom's tight brow.

"I don't know where Candace went off to. I wanted to see what she wanted me to get her."

The other two laughed to his consternation.

"Oh, Tom! She's just inside with our son. He's taking care of it."

Tom appeared as though he was about to succumb to a heart attack, his eyes were so bulged out of their sockets.

"Y-your… _son_, eh?" he repeated with a jagged smile, seething on the inside.

"Yes, our son. Is that a problem?" Mrs. Williams asked defensively.

The gray man sulked, looking down somewhat and waggled his head. Meanwhile, Candace skipped over to him with Stan close behind.

"Hi, Daddy!" she chimed, holding an ice cream cone in one paw and Stan's with the opposite. The glint in her deep brown eyes was disarming.

"Hello, sweetheart," he replied wearily. The teens walked over to a table next to where their parents were before he could say anything else. Stan allowed Candace to sit before he did, taking her cone so she wouldn't drop it in the process, and gave a timid simper over to Tom as he did so.

"Aww, our son is such a gentleman."

Tom glanced at the twins' mother and sighed lightly, nodding.

"He definitely is… I'm so sorry. Just so used to these little punks running around. We come from New York," he explained, turning pink and bristling at the thought of some of the boys there. "I know it's no excuse, but… I'm also in the police force. Guess it just makes a man paranoid."

"Well, we're a nice, small town. So you won't have to worry about any of that!" Sandy and Stan's father put an arm around Tom's shoulders and pulled him in. "You'll see you'll easily make a lot of friends here. And, besides, it's not only policemen with daughters that are so watchful. I have a young lady on my hands now as well and it worries me all the time she's always with boys."

"Mmhm… I guess so. That's Sandy, right? And, you know, you people are great here. Everyone is so kind to us. It's really great. I see your son is a prime example of the people living here. It's just… Candace is all I have. I'm very protective of her. Sometimes she hates me for it, I bet, but I can't help myself. I'm sure Stan is a good kid, but…" he trailed off and the twins' mother smiled sympathetically, taking his paw.

"We understand. And, we'll make certain our boy is good to her," Sandy and Stan's mother looked down, smiling softly. "I was actually wondering if there was a Mrs. Fox in the picture. Never saw her around."

Tom sighed lightly, nodding again. He didn't say anything.

Just then, Sandy zoomed by in her gimp to keep up with the team, though straggling. Maxwell tagged close behind, though not purposefully, for Sandy's jog was his run, and tried to wave Stan over to join them. He declined, taking his date's paw to Maxwell's disappointment as the group went on.

"Hi, Mom and Dad!" Sandy hollered over to her parents as the group ran in between the trio of adults. She spat towards the garbage can in an effort to appease them for her rude, supposedly uncontrollable deed.

"Sandy, be careful! You don't want to hurt your ankle even more, do you!"

The girl looked back at her mother with scorn but nodded, slowing down merely a pace. This was good enough for the woman since she turned her attention back to her husband and Tom.

"Ah, she's quite the little butch, huh?" the gray man said, giving a hearty chuckle.

The twins' mother narrowed her eyes at him, trying to stay calm over her instinctive maternal protectiveness.

"By 'butch', I hope you mean 'tomboy'…"

Mr. Williams laughed nervously, putting an arm around the distraught lady's shoulder and stepped over to where Stan and Candace were, feeling it safer to tell them to call it a night and gather at the cars.

* * *

Behind a shrub, a small cluster of baseball players gathered together to chat and enjoy their treats. Sandy sat on the brick ledge of one of the decorative plants and played a casual game of catch with Maxwell. She figured that if she didn't constantly drill him, he would be more comfortable learning how to better receive the ball.

"So, Max…" she started, heaving it to the boy. "How do you feel, winning our first game of the season?"

Her friend was breathless at first, and a gigantic grin etched itself on his dirty face.

"It feels great! We did awesome!" It was all the giddy young man could say before he returned the ball gruffly. "I hope we can keep this up."

"We will. We gotta." Sandy replied quietly, fussing with her cap and turning the baseball around in her paw.

A faraway cry broke the chattering teenagers from their gaieties, but as soon as they realized it was only for Sandy and Maxwell, went back to doing their business. Maxwell helped Sandy down from her perch and they started toward the parking lot. Her eyes stayed on him for some time as if in awe of his assistance yet again. A happy throb was in her heart.

"Hey, Maxwell!" Boss yelled.

"Yeah?" Both he and Sandy looked at the older boy in anticipation. He closed off seeing how Sandy seemed to have joined in the conversation.

"Nothin'. I'll tell you tonight."

The boy nodded as if in on whatever secret it was and gave his final goodbyes along with Sandy, stumbling off into the twilight.

* * *

The minute Maxwell left, Sandy made a b-line for the bathroom. It was in there she ripped off her tape, relieved that none of her fur had gotten caught in the adhesive. It was a good feeling, finally freeing herself from that hot, sweaty mess. She took a shower and made sure to scrub down everything. Even her feet. She didn't want to be the only smelly thing in her room. It didn't deserve that after enduring the pizza crust. The girl used her mother's shampoo. Cautiously pouring it into the palm of her paw, she watched the pink liquid come out of it's spout and caught its scent as it was released. Roses. She rather liked this and set the bottle down, lathering up. Once out and dried, she pulled her tail fur into one of the pale elastics she kept on the vanity shelf and wrapped up her ankle in an ACE bandage just in case. The only time she stopped this process was when someone had walked by and shut the ajar door.

After all these tasks were finished, the young teenager padded downstairs to the kitchen and checked the time. It was an hour before she was supposed to be in bed, so she decided to grab a snack from the refrigerator and watch some incredibly boring television with her parents.

Opening the fridge was easy. Selecting what to munch on was not. Sandy had always had a big appetite, but with seeing how late in the evening it was, picked just a pair of carrot sticks and milk. The girl had rattled the carton around to judge how much of the liquid remained, and thought it to be senseless to pour such a meager amount into a glass. She pulled the spout open and continued into the living room, sipping.

She was met with her mother's astonished stare.

"Sandy, why didn't you put that in a cup?"

The girl smiled innocently, shrugging.

"What? Like, no middle naming this time?"

Her mother sighed hopelessly.

"Sandy, I'm tired of having to tell you how to be more ladylike. Drinking out of the container is for boys- no, _slobs_. No daughter of mine will be called a slob."

"So it's okay if I'm called a boy?"

Sandy's father tried not to encourage her by laughing and changed the channel instead.

"Honey, just sit down and watch some TV with us." He entered the conversation listlessly. Sandy grinned, spying an opening.

"But, I thought I wasn't allowed…"

"Stop being such a smart-aleck and sit with us. You _could_ always go to bed, you know."

Sandy chose what seemed to be the lesser of the two evils and took a place on the sofa between her parents. They were viewing a late night talk show and the host discussed topics that were beyond the girl's intelligence or interest. Her mother and father found it to be rather humorous, but Sandy was bored to tears. She bet Maxwell would understand the satire targeted at the government or the innuendos born out of celebrities' speeches. She wasn't smart like him.

It had finally reached the point to where Sandy could no longer take it, thus she bid her parents goodnight, yawning for theatrics, and slunk upstairs.

Groping around in the dark, the girl reached under her pillow and snatched up her walkie-talkie, flicking it on with the knob at the top and listening to waves of rampant static for a moment or two before saying anything.

"Hey. Maxwell?" Ckkkk. Silence followed. Then finally a reply.

"You still there, Sandy?"

The girl laughed.

"Yeah, I'm like, totally still here, Max."

"Good."

Good? Sandy wondered what he had meant by this. Normally not so philosophical or thinking of things to be so profound, she wrote it off as his normal paternal overlooking of her especially since her injury that day.

"How is your ankle?" he asked just as she had thought of it. "Does it still hurt?"

"Not really," Sandy replied with a smile. She usually didn't like being fawned over, but it was nice just then. Maxwell was nice. He was a nice boy.

"That's good. Probably just twisted it, then."

"Mmhm…" The conversation was going as well as the television program she had just retreated from. "Uh, hey. Instead of talking about stupid ankles and stuff, how about you tell me what your plans are for tomor-"

A tinkling from her window pane distracted Sandy and she climbed out of bed to investigate. From the first sight, there was nothing but the trees and the empty air. She strained to listen for a murmur, a snapping of a twig, anything that could give her signs of faunal life, especially if it was some of her friends.

"Tomorrow?" Maxwell asked, his voice soft but enough to pull her out of her search.

"Y-yeah…"

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

-.-.-

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_This chapter is specially dedicated to ChargingForwardBlind, my mother, and Stephan for telling me to keep going and to not compromise the way I write. Thank you so much!_


	7. Chapter Seven: Maxwell Edwards's Star

One of The Boys

Chapter Seven: Maxwell Edwards's Star

"Hey, Mom."

The twins' mother jumped considerably from her spot next to their snoring father and gazed up at Stan with droopy eyes.

"Yes, son. What is it?" She yawned, kneading the back her of neck where a kink had formed from her laying on it in such an uncomfortable position. Stan frowned and used the utmost care in conversing with her so as to not bother the woman more.

"Just wanted to know if it would be okay if I went over to Max's place."

At a snail's pace, she moved her aching head and blinked a few times to see the clock. Wearing an expression comprised of skepticism and worry, she went back to her child.

"Stanley, it's nearly midnight! What is going on over there?"

Before answering, Stan peeked over his shoulder to see if Sandy had made it to the kitchen yet. Her shadowy figure climbed around a chair, almost knocking into the dining table. He needed to buy her more time and think up something plausible all at once.

"Uhh… He just wants me to come over there. Something's got him spooked and he wanted me to keep him company until his parents got home."

A crash came from the next room, startling them both.

"What was that? Is your sister out there?"

Noting her obvious fatigue, Stan took advantage of the low-budget horror movie that was then playing on the television.

"No, Mom! It was the TV, I think," he reassured, glowering at his sibling who mouthed a curse and an apology. "Anyway, can I go?"

"Do you plan on spending the night?"

The boy shrugged, catching Sandy giving him a thumbs-up and slipping out the patio door from the corner of his eye.

"Probably not," he finally answered.

"Well, okay. I'll keep the front door unlocked."

Just as she settled back down, Stan spoke again.

"Hey Mom?" She sighed.

"Yes, Stan…"

"Can Sandy come too?"

Without looking at him, his mother replied.

"No, son. She's grounded."

"Oh yeah…" he mused, coming out of his mock amnesia. "Well, gotta go. Love ya, Mom!"

Stan sprinted from the living room and to the front door, into the darkness to meet up with his sister at the end of the driveway. He departed so quickly, he couldn't even hear his mother's goodnight wishes.

_Badda-badda-badda…_

_

* * *

_

"Where are you going?" Stan hollered at his sister, who had taken the left leg on the forked wooded path. "We aren't meeting at the Clubhouse."

The girl stopped and walked back to where Stan was with a quizzical look on her face.

"We aren't? Then where're we going?"

"Towards town," he explained to the best of his ability to remember what the guys had told him.

Sandy nodded in understanding as they both took the other way, running again.

Stan halted briefly to catch his breath, but pretended it was to answer his sister.

"I think they went to get more of the gang."

More of. This struck Sandy as funny. Was _she _one of the guys? Of course she was! She'd always been, but lately it seemed they were having a falling out. Even her brother was acting strangely towards her this night. The girl jolted once she realized her brother had started running down the path again.

"You coming! ?" Stan shouted back to her, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah. Sorry!" She shook herself back to reality. "I guess being grounded for the first time does crazy things to ya," she replied quickly, gaining on him.

* * *

It wasn't ten minutes the twins had gone before they saw Boss' truck slowing down next to them. Hurriedly, they crammed themselves into the back seat, knowing that the cops came out especially at this hour after curfew.

Stan pulled the door shut as fast and as silently as he could, making everyone cringe with its low, slow groan.

"Ahh… Gotta love this rust bucket," Boss said, chuckling.

It got a laugh out of Snoozer, but not the frightened Sandy and Stan.

"Geez! You two sound worse than Dexter in the middle of one of his asthma attacks!" Boss commented gruffly, smiling at them in his mirror.

"What's the Snooze-man doin' here?" Stan questioned casually, leaning back against the window, still panting.

The older boy only shrugged.

"He said he just wanted to come. I doubt he's gonna do anything, but heck. He deserves to get out once in a while." At that moment, his brown eyes fell upon Sandy in the other seat and glinted in terror. "Sandy! I didn't think you were coming!"

Sandy rumpled her eyebrows crankily.

"And why wouldn't I?" She turned to Stan for an answer as well, though he seemed to be just as clueless.

"Hey. I see Hamtaro. Better pick him up!"

Was this only a guys thing?

* * *

With Hamtaro, Panda, and Jingle now in the truck, things were very cramped. It wasn't hard noticing Sandy there, but only Boss and Panda seemed to be truly bothered by her presence. The rest were sleepy and as out of the loop as she.

Suddenly, Boss hit the brakes in the middle of one of the back roads, despite the absence of a stop sign. This had awoken those drowsing off enough to look out the windows and see Howdy flagging them over from within the gigantic stalks of corn he was hiding in. Four other heads popped out of there as well, but it was hard to tell exactly whose. All were accounted for, with two extras.

Boss pulled his truck over behind a large oak tree so as to not look suspicious no matter how rarely frequented that road was and the others hopped out, making sure not to crush Snoozer as they left. Trying not to rustle very much, the two groups finally met each other.

"Hey hey!" Stan called, just above a whisper and gave Maxwell a clap on the shoulder. "You're here too?"

Sandy made her way over to where the two boys were and landed right behind her brother. Maxwell looked over and smiled, making her face warm.

'_I'm sooo glad it's dark!_' she found herself thinking.

The group strode into the fields quietly, not so much in single-file as they'd tried to be in the darkness. Sandy followed Maxwell so closely that when she'd tripped over a stick, his back caught her fall. It took little restraint for her not to scream, for her embarrassment swallowed her yelp for her.

"Gee, Max! Watch where you're going, will ya?" she snarled.

Maxwell, not wanting to damage Sandy's ego more, kept looking up at the sky.

"I'm sorry, Sandy. It's just that I'm so fascinated with those stars up there, I tend to forget where I'm at sometimes."

This answer puzzled the girl. If it had been any other boy in the field that night, they would have snapped something back, making the others laugh and she even more embarrassed. For another thing, she had no idea that Maxwell was so into star-gazing. She really had to do more research on him.

"Ohh… So you're like, a mediocre astrologist?" (She was proud of herself for using such a large word.)

"Not so much an astrologist, because I don't particularly believe in those silly horoscopes, but definitely a novice astronomer . Stars are just wonderful to me! There's so many different ones and in infinite numbers."

Sandy's humiliation crept back again as she tramped along the fallen corn stalks. She felt so much dumber than Maxwell, not even knowing the difference between an astrologist and an astronomer. What did it matter anyway?

"Ohh…" she mused again, jumping slightly as he took her paw.

"I stepped in something nasty. I just wanted to make sure you got across it alright," he answered her silent question as her eyes began to take their normal size.

"Well, you forget," she said, recoiling her paw as she hopped over whatever it was. "I'm not like other girls. I don't give a damn if I step in something gross. I mean, I still wear my cleats, don't I?" This got some chuckles from the surrounding boys. "Anyway, the stars."

"Ah, yes. The stars." Maxwell nodded, still looking back at her and smiling genuinely. "I've made it my goal this summer to discover a new one."

Sandy snorted, trying to keep her laughter low.

"Stars just don't pop out of _nowhere_, Max," she stated between hic-ups of giggles.

"Oh, sure they do!" Maxwell defended himself by pointing up to the great span of sky above them. "Do you see that cluster of stars there? The really dim ones?" It took Sandy a moment, but yes, she did. "They're dying. And once they die, a brand new star is made in their place. And I want to be there the very next time a star is born." He chuckled at his own use of figurative speech.

"Hmm… I always thought it was because they were like, really far away that they got so dim."

"Well, that's the case sometimes, but now you know why else!"

There was a pause in their conversation as the commotion ahead started to drown them out. Neither bothered to inquire about such ruckus.

"So, what will you do when you like, actually find this new star?" Sandy asked just above a whisper since the boys ahead of them shushed all the rest walking at their side.

"I have to be the first to call it in and then give it a name."

Sandy looked awestruck.

"You can _do_ that?"

"Yes, of course," Maxwell answered calmly.

"What're you gonna _call_ it, do you know?" The girl had trouble holding in her excitement just then. Maxwell replied, but she had to confirm if what she heard him say was true. "Wait. Did you say Edwardstar or _Edwards's star_?"

"Edward's star."

"But, your name is Maxwell!"

"My last name," he reminded her. She knew.

"You can just name it whatever you want to? Like, if I totally wanted to call the star I found _Ass_, I could?"

Maxwell chuckled at her and nodded.

"Sure. I mean, people find and name stars all the time. It can be after themselves, or their girlfriends or spouses, or their kids… even dead relatives. It's incredible."

This was rather intriguing for Sandy, but just one thing really bothered her.

"You told her earlier that stars die, right?"

"Mmhm."

"What happens when somebody owns it and it dies? Is it just tough luck when that happens or do they get another one?"

Maxwell looked back at her for the second time that night. He had this glint in his eye which told her he was about to say something profound, as always. Sandy took notice of this and noted to herself just how handsome his dark blue eyes were.

"It takes a star several hundred years to go out like that, so by then the one who found it would be long gone. Though, I suppose that maybe, it would always be theirs. Perhaps, they could rest together."

Sandy stared at him with his furtive smile and couldn't help but smile back. Suddenly, someone up front yelled and everyone ran up to gather at the end of the field, just before the streetlight. Boss had to quiet them all down.

"Okay, guys," he started. There were still some snickers from the crowd. "Shut up!"

"Dude! Chill, Boss-man. We're here. This spot's better than anything," Stan said, pulling off his shirt.

"Hiff hiff… Uh, I dunno, guys. This place smells awfully familiar…" Oxnard added warily, chewing on a sunflower seed to stop his teeth from chattering.

"C'mon, Oxy. Everay place feels familiah whin you're abouta streak," Howdy drawled, untying his apron. Jingle was already standing around in the buff, but this was practically normal for him. Fortunately, he was covered up by his guitar.

Sandy and Maxwell turned to each other in shock, getting ready to bolt.

"Streak!" Sandy howled despite herself, chills running through her body at the thought. It was one thing to run around naked together as babies, but now that she'd developed ever-so-slightly, it just wasn't the cool thing to do anymore.

"Yeah, Sandy- _Streak_. Why do you think we didn't invite you along in the first place?" Panda replied. This hurt Sandy's feelings, yet at the same time she understood they were actually looking out for her.

"Well, I wish you fellows would have told me beforehand!" Dexter cried, trembling and expressing Maxwell's exact sentiments.

"I don't really want to do this…" Maxwell trailed off weakly, his whiskers bent in apprehension. The rest couldn't see it, but they could tell he was blushing from the sound of his voice.

"I do! I want to streak! I hope we streak for the rest of the season!" Hamtaro belted cheerfully, grinning and surprising the others. "We'd be the best team ever!"

"Red, we're talking about something completely different!" Stan laughed, slapping his forehead. All the while Oxnard was sniffing their air curiously and Sandy grew more and more tense. "But yeah. Dexy, Max, I really wish you dudes had the zest for this our buddy has!"

"I just don't think this is necessarily the thing to do on a Friday night. I mean, couldn't we do something else instead? Go bowling? Or… just hang out at someone's house? I'd gladly volunteer mine. I really don't want to spend the rest of my summer in trouble if we get caught doing this," Maxwell tried to reason without his voice cracking.

"Wah, wah," Stan mocked. "Like you have to worry about that anyways. Your folks are never around enough for you to get in trouble in the first place!"

Maxwell gawked at his best friend, wounded.

"Hey!" Sandy screamed in his defense, clenching up a fist. Stan ignored them, wearing nothing but a sly grin and his underpants at this point.

"Don't make fun of the poor, old chap, especially when he don't got no one to call Pap…" Jingle sung in the background, strumming but two chords.

"And besides, whoever said we were gonna get caught?"

Some of the other boys laughed, nearly as stripped down as he.

"Come on, you two! Live a little!" Boss addressed Maxwell and Dexter, twirling his jeans over his head. Sandy averted her eyes.

"Oh, I don't know Maxwell…" Dexter peeped, looking at the other hesitant boy while taking off his bowtie.

"'Atta boy, Dex!" Stan yowled. Nobody paid attention to what Oxnard was going on about ahead. Sandy started to back away toward the brush.

"What about you, Max? You in yet?" Panda asked, pulling off his socks.

"You know…" he began nervously, sighing. He then peered back to where the girl was feebly. "I think I'm just going to walk Sandy home."

This answer got Maxwell a series of boos, causing him to writhe even more in his awkwardness.

"Aw, come on! You guys are such babies!"

Both Sandy and Maxwell's faces hardened at this remark.

"I just don't want to, okay? I think it's unfair to Sandy we just leave her like this."

"Welp, she could always do it with us. She don't have at sit here all by lonesome," Howdy said, giving her a look.

"I don't want to either," was her simple reply.

"Guys… I know this place! I-it's… " Oxnard shook. Nobody paid any attention to him.

"Wow, you two! Didn't realize once you got partnered up for Seven Minutes in Heaven that you're married to each other for life!" Stan hollered.

"What? You guys little boyfriend and girlfriend now behind our backs all because of what happened in the closet?" Panda sneered. Sandy had never seen him so mean before.

"Ooooh…" jeered the crowd of boys around them.

"Why is everybody naked?" Hamtaro questioned loudly, being one of three hamsters still in their clothes.

No one answered the poor, naïve boy. No one said anything at all in waiting for either Sandy or Maxwell to fess up. Maxwell peeked back at Sandy for the fourth time that night, giving her a soft, nervous smile. She tried not to cry in front of him, or any of them for that matter. Finally, Maxwell turned back around.

"Knock it off, everyone! We didn't do anything other than talk! And… No! I don't like her that way at all!"

Something in what he had just said made her heart stop. She felt sick. Why did those final words hit her so badly? Sandy blinked away her tears and ran away, giving not a second thought to where she was going and not caring if the corn stalks tripped her up in her blindness all the while. The farther she ran away from them, the better she thought she'd feel. The farther she ran away from their hooting and shouting voices, the less she'd have to hear. She was lost in a maze of a corn field, with nobody to call a friend and a broken heart.

Then it smacked her, nearly as hard as the branch which caused her temporary, grass-covered demise.

He didn't like her that way. At all.

* * *

It was a quarter past two when Sandy finally managed to get herself home. She numbly climbed up the trellis by her bedroom window and rolled onto the floor of her room. She had forgotten to turn the light off before leaving earlier, but this turned out to be to her advantage although she was sure her parents had tried knocking on her door to wake her up to tell her turn it off since she'd also locked the door. She would probably be talked to about it in the morning. The girl laughed at herself for a moment for being too afraid to climb down the trellis to get outside yet being brave enough to climb up it to get into her own house. She laughed at herself again to keep herself from sobbing.

Sandy dragged herself over to the light switch and turned off the light. Her stereo was plugged in and its pulsing standby lights were enough for her. She turned the radio function of it on and laid down on her back in front of it as it picked up a signal, staring out at the stars winking at her through her window.

'_I hope he finds his star_…' she thought, her eyes welling up again. '_Even if it isn't me_.'

It was odd, really, how this sense of pseudo crush had come about. Sandy had known Maxwell since he'd moved here when they were very young yet she never really took the time to recognize just how great he was. She had always been the one tagging along rather than the one who was actually invited up until this summer. She had always stuck by her brother anyway, even though he was preoccupied teaching Maxwell how to hit a ball better or get him to swim in what he called a "stagnant cesspool of protozoa" also known as the creek. It was his quirks which had put her off before, but now they were the source of this attraction. Only on her end, though.

They had gone from simply knowing each other, to knowing about each other, to actually being friends and somehow the lines got muddied for her and she'd thought she'd had feelings for him. Ones he would never return.

This led her to question what was so wrong with her that kept him from feeling the same. Was it because she smelled sometimes? Or that she didn't wear pretty clothes? Or that he thought she was rude for swearing when she had the chance even though he never did? Was it because she had no dinner table etiquette while his family lived more fancily?

A change of song broke her from her thoughts and the melody's familiarity immediately infuriated her. Hadn't she been so dazed from the night's events, she would have stomped over and changed the station, because a happy tune definitely had no place in her gloomy heart. She continued to run through all the things that could possibly make her so undesirable as she wiped her nose and eyes with her mitt. And when the chorus came, so did her Eureka moment.

…_So, I don't wanna be one of the boys, one of your guys_

_Just give me a chance to prove to you tonight _

_That I just wanna be one of the girls_

_Pretty in pearls and not one of the boys…_

It was because she was just one of the boys. And even so, she loved him and she would make him love her back.

_-.-.-_


	8. Chapter Eight: No Trade Backs

One of The Boys

Chapter Eight: No Trade-Backs

Sandy woke up feeling sore, finding herself still on the rough, food and drink-stained carpet and greeted by the low sizzle of radio static. She rubbed her eyes carefully, feeling the matted up fur on her cheeks which brought her back to the world from her dreams.

It was terribly bright outside for only being eight in the morning and a loud knock at her door forced the girl up to her feet.

"Sandy dear, have you been sleeping with the light on all night long?"

She had completely called it. Sitting up with a groan and cracking her back with a stretch, she wandered over to her door and unlocked it.

"No. I turned it off when I got- At like, one-ish," she muttered, flustered.

The woman gave her a contemplative glance as the girl continued rubbing her eyes with the back of her paw. She yawned in her face.

"What is that all over your cheeks?" her mother asked.

Sandy glowered at the woman, pushing gently past her to get to the bathroom.

"Nothing. It's nothing, Mom. Just had a totally rough night. Didn't sleep too well."

The woman snooped around the room coyly from her spot at the mouth of the door as her daughter used the bathroom. She eyed the bed, neatly made, and saw that the curtains were blowing outdoors.

"Did you go out last night?" she called through the hallway.

"No! Why?" Sandy shouted back. The loud flush of the toilet made it impossible to hear her mother's reasoning. "What! ?"

The woman spoke again. This time, louder.

"I was just wondering because your bed is still made and your curtains are hanging out the window."

Sandy walked out from the half-closed door, freshened.

"I fell asleep on the floor and was too lazy to bring the curtains back in when I opened the windows last night."

This seemed a good enough response for her mother.

"I see. Well, I have to go to work today," she said, changing the subject.

"Umm… Alright."

"I just wanted to let you know in case you needed me and I wasn't here. I'm only covering for Belinda for part of the day. I should be back at noon."

"Okay, then," Sandy responded apathetically while her mother hugged her near.

"Don't fight with your brother," the woman warned her. She nodded.

'_Wasn't even planning on talking to that jerk after last night…_'

* * *

Sandy ventured into her brother's room at lunchtime because he had a stash of candy on the middle shelf of his primarily vacant bookshelf. The only two books on it were hand-me-downs from Maxwell that he had never gotten around to reading because of baseball or school or girls and things of that sort. Sandy was half-temped to take one for the sake of it, but remembered she wanted nothing to do with the boy just then. She crept over to the bookcase and snatched a bar, spying Stan still laying in a cocoon of half-kicked off sheets.

"Aren't you supposed to be at that one kid's house right now?" she snarled, ripping open the Pay Day and chomping into it as she watched her brother stir.

"Nah, sis," he replied groggily, pushing off the sheets the rest of the way and leaning his back against the head of his bed to an extent. "Didn't get back 'til almost four and I think he's ticked off at me anyway. Candy's supposed to come over some time, though."

It was nauseating, the smile the boy had put on at that moment. She sighed. Just as she was about to leave, Stan spoke up again.

"So, you know how Oxy was goin' on about whatever it was last night?" Continuing to chew on a lumpy gob of caramel, Sandy nodded.

"Mmhm."

Stan sat up all the way excitedly.

"Well, it turns out the place we were at was Pepper's family's farm! And coincidentally, she was having a sleepover with all the girls and we ran right in the yard- right past the windows and GOD! You shoulda heard Bijou scream at us all… _au naturel_!" His wink and his laughter were almost too much for the girl. She rolled her eyes, grabbing for the doorknob because she thought he was finished. "Oh! And Pashy totally fainted when she ran out onto the porch and saw Dexter, wearing nothing but his damn medical bracelet! I totally thought the dude was gonna stroke out, the way he was wheezing the entire time! But he looked like he was having fun."

"Well, that's good…" Sandy said, not at all amused.

"Oh, it was amazing! Great! Sparkle came out in her curlers and kept bitching at us all to get away from the house or she'd call the cops- We believed her! She's that kind of a tattle. But, I dunno where Candace was, but I hope she was around to see us- well… to see _me_. I-I kinda wanna know what she thought of how I look like. I think she might've seen me because she called this morning to see if she was allowed to hang out!" The blush on the boy's face contradicted the tone he was forcing in his voice.

Sandy glared at him and rolled her eyes once more, more genuinely this time. As if she wanted to hear about the very event which had temporarily ruined her life. She finally retorted:

"Why? So she could see how tiny your ding-dong is and make fun of you to your face?"

Stan looked taken aback and puffed his cheeks out in rage.

"Just get outta my room!" he hollered. She complied right away, gladly. However, right as she grasped the handle to open the door, he added, "You owe me a candy bar!"

Staring at her brother momentarily with a smirk before heading down the hall, she flung whatever was left of the Pay Day at him.

* * *

After she was a safe distance away, Sandy allowed herself to storm back to her room. She slammed the door behind her without realizing it and threw herself onto her bed, ruining its longest streak of tidiness while trying not to cry. Stan did not deserve such a nice girl like Candace, and Candace did not deserve such a jerk like her brother. If anybody had deserved to be with anybody else, it was Sandy. Yet, she had no one. Not yet.

Peering through unclear emerald eyes, Sandy spotted her box. Oh, the epitome of her boyish childhood! The reason she was so repulsive, she knew. The girl first tried to kick it away from her, like a nasty crazed lapdog, but her foot couldn't reach that far. Finally, she fought her way out of the web of covers she'd gotten herself into to pick it up and toss it as hard as she could against her bedroom wall. As it made its decent onto the soiled carpet, its contents were ejected and strewn all about the room- the firecrackers, the remainder of her arsenal of water balloons, the fake rubber snake. All of it went everywhere. She simply wanted it to disappear.

"You're the reason why no one likes me!" she roared at the things, but really at herself.

It took her some minutes to settle again, and remorsefully, panting, Sandy crouched down to her things, staring at the ripped up cardboard formerly known as her box. Slowly, cautiously, she picked up the rubber snake and cradled it in her shaking arms.

"I'm sooo sorry," she whispered after inspecting the floppy thing, battered from years of play. She nearly sensed the pain it would have felt if it were real when she gazed into its one painted-on eye, feeling even more pity when she saw its faded, rubbed-off one. "I'm just like, really mad, I guess. Not at you, though."

Heaving a heavy sigh and placing all her trinkets back into the dilapidated box, Sandy trudged downstairs to the porch with her old green friend and some poppers to mope.

* * *

She was down to two packages of poppers when Candace strode up the driveway on her skates. Without looking up and continuing to toss the little white oblong balls, she greeted the other girl meekly, forgetting to hide her serpent pal.

"Oh. Hey, Sandy!" Candace replied, watching Sandy for a moment longer. "Watcha doin'?" she asked. "Who's your little friend there?" The brunette girl giggled friendlily upon seeing Sandy's rubber snake which led her to quickly stow it away behind her back, as she reddened in the face.

"Nothin' much…" she exhaled, dumping out the sawdust in the baggy she held and opening her last pack. "Stan's inside."

"Thanks!" the other girl said. She sat down on a step below Sandy to unlace her pair of green and black skates. Sandy tried not to stare at them.

"Those are really cool," she commented at last, still a bit pink.

"I got them as a moving-away present from my dad," she explained, fingering at the pink stripe which sprawled across the side facing away from her. "In the city, there wasn't a lot of space for me to skate in. I kinda like how you can here."

There was another momentary silence as the girls carried on with what they were doing. Candace startled every time Sandy threw a popper her way, and Sandy kept her eyes on the sleek black sheen of her friend's skates.

"My brother's in his room- first door straight from the stairs." Sandy had decided to dismiss Candace after another minute of the two just sitting there idly. Candace gave her a gracious nod and went into the house. After finishing off her poppers, it had dawned on Sandy that what she had just done. It was quite possible that by allowing Candace into Stan's room, she had made a very poor move as his sister. Seconds later, after only seeing the couple's faces, this thought was proven true.

* * *

"Candace, wait!" Stan shouted after the fleeing girl.

"Why should I?" she replied briskly, stopping in the middle of the driveway.

"Because I'm a good guy, Candy! And I already explained what happened! I know you're not a witch like that!" he said, letting the porch door slam closed.

Sandy looked at the wide-eyed girl patiently, apprehensively, for her to respond.

"You think I'm a witch for having morals, Stanley?" she growled. Sandy had never heard anyone call her brother that besides her parents. It left a strange feeling in her gut.

"No! That's not what I'm saying at all!" Stan whimpered, his whole body shaking.

"Just… Look, Stan. Maybe we should talk about this later when I'm not so upset with you," Candace reasoned in a softer tone, stepping close to the porch again. She completely disregarded Sandy's presence.

"Yeah… I'd really like that, Candy," he said back with a feeble smile.

"I'll call you tomorrow or something," she promised, pulling her skates on tightly and tugging the straps snugly around her ankles. Stan nodded and mumbled something neither girl could hear before he sulked back into the house.

That was when Candace caught Sandy from the corner of her eye and smiled at her wistfully.

"Are you and my brother broken up?" Sandy peeped sadly.

"For now, yeah."

"Oh…" Sandy mused childishly, looking down as though the two were her parents.

'_I shouldn't have let her in_,' she thought. '_And since I did, I shoulda at least like, followed her and listened at the door so I could help explain_.'

She felt like the lousiest sister ever at that moment, even though it wasn't her fault in the slightest. "Will you be okay again?"

"I'm sure of it," Candace reassured gently, starting off down the driveway when she spun herself around and went back over to Sandy. "Hey. You didn't do anything bad, okay?"

"Okay…"

"I just think a nice day at the mall after hanging out with the girls at Sparkle's will do me some good after this. I mean, even if they all think he's a sleaze too, I'm sure it's good to vent a little about our guys." Oddly, Sandy had never seen it that way. Perhaps this is why her mother had always insisted on meeting up with her sorority sisters every month or so. She didn't think her father had done that much wrong, though.

"Candace…?"

"Mmhm? What is it?"

Sandy gulped hard, trembling slightly and she brushed the saw dust out of the folds in her baggy jeans.

"U-uhh… Can I…?"

"Can you what?" Candace asked, still using her motherly voice. Sandy was positive now that the girl was under the impression she was younger. She looked her in the eyes and blushed some more.

"Can I come with you?"

* * *

Sandy took her bike out of the shed and followed Candace on her skates. It was incredible- the grace she had, making her tiny loops to get from one stride to the next one look so effortless as they traveled down the streets. It was as if she was a ballerina, spinning and dancing along the asphalt. This was sort of how Sandy ran, she noticed. What Candace was on her skates was what Sandy was running and everyone knew it. Nobody she knew could beat her in a footrace, not since they were little, and the only one to ever come close was Boss. He was very quick, but he was also big while she was much littler, which was to her great advantage.

Sandy had never been to Sparkle's- nor any of the other girls' homes, save for Bijou. She wasn't sure how they would take her, actually. She wasn't one of _them_ and she didn't think Candace had ever recognized this. She hesitated as they drew nearer, letting her pedaling slow and Candace get farther and farther ahead. Her heart jumped when she saw the picture perfect self-proclaimed princess, tanning on her porch, with Pashmina and Bijou at her side daintily sipping tall glasses of iced tea. By the time she had reached the driveway, Candace was already chatting with the other girls, her skates off and an iced tea in her paw. Sandy saw her pouring another one, presumably for her.

"Are ya coming, slow-poke?" Pepper's drawl was carried from the upstairs window by the sweet August air. Was she talking to Sandy?

"Umm… Yeah!" Sandy replied shakily, setting her bike on the grass because her kickstand had been ruined by one of the boys on the team rough-housing with it too much. Once she set foot on the first stair, Pepper came out and joined the other girls, who greeted her statically. Candace handed Sandy the cold glass she'd been saving for her but before she could accept it, she wiped her paws on her raggedy jeans to not dirty it quite as much. "Thanks," she said after taking too big of a slurp. The girls stared at her.

"So… Sorry if it seems like I just invited Sandy along," Candace began to apologize to the others half-heartedly. "It's just, I thought it'd be fun if we all went to the mall together!"

Sparkle eyed Sandy coyly and meanly giggled.

"I don't mind at all, Candy. I mean- gosh! Sandy could really use the shopping. _Look_ at her!"

"I will deck you, Sparkle!" Sandy growled, her feelings hurt by such a remark, even though she was sure it was true to an extent.

"Heh. Spunky. I like her." Sparkle beamed, scuffling up some of Sandy's coarse fur.

"You really could use a make-over. I think it'd be a blast doing it for you, Sandy!" Pashmina added, smiling at the tiger-striped girl. She honestly hadn't meant it as meanly as Sparkle had, but it still stung. Sandy sort of liked this sting, though. "I haven't given a make-over in a long time!" All the while, Sandy took one long, quiet sip of her tea, not knowing what to say nor caring about what they were saying after that. Not completely, at least.

"Sandy, do you think you're up for that?" Candace asked sweetly, clapping the dirt-covered sleeve of her torn-up shirt.

"I don't have that much money." was her simple reply. She didn't want to tell them she'd blown it all on the new edition of her favorite comic book, which, coincidentally had become her favorite after she'd learned it was Maxwell's.

"Don't worry about it! My family's the richest one in town! I mean, look at this place! We'll take care of it for you!" Sparkle squealed. She loved to brag about her money just as much as she loved to make girls into clones of herself. Pretty, popular, always having fun and always with a boy at her side… Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"I dunno…" Sandy trailed off.

'_Yes you do_!' her mind shrieked at her. '_Go for it! Maxwell won't be any more interested in you if you stay this way_!'

"Umm…" Everyone on the porch stared at her until she murmured shyly, "Okay."

A loud chorus of excited screams filled the entire front yard and the girls latched themselves carefully onto Sandy's clean parts, shoving her inside the extravagant house and up the elaborate staircase which led to an even more intricate hall where Sparkle's textbook dream room was in. Sandy was drunken by the flurry and dread so much so that she hadn't realized they'd already sat her down on the bed and started raiding Sparkle's closet for an outfit she could wear to the mall.

* * *

It was hard to breathe in all the excitement as the other girls crowded her, swarming at her with different articles of clothing and shades of make-up. Sandy felt special, though. Nobody had ever pampered her so much before. She really hadn't let anyone pamper her before to begin with. Somebody was brushing out her fur as someone else filed her claws. She found out that she rather liked this. _This_ was nice.

When they had finally given her some breathing room, Sandy had hoisted herself up and noticed that her old clothes were thrown into Sparkle's little pink trash bin. She would have said something in protest, but that's when they threw her close to the mirror, stood behind her and hopped on their toes in jubilance.

"Look at yourself!"

Sandy did. And she hardly recognized herself anymore. She gazed in awe at her new appearance, but stood awkwardly on a pair of high heels and with her legs bent to one side just to feel something on them for she was now in a skirt. It was a very adorable skirt- a cute, tiered and ruffled baby blue one with a lovely off-white lace trimming at each hem. She'd seen Sparkle wear this exact skirt to school and at the time, she hated it. But when she saw it on herself, she couldn't help but hate it a little less. The skirt hung a bit loose on her, for Sparkle had wider hips and a bigger butt, however, it suited Sandy just fine. And the pale yellow top was just as stunning. It was tight-fitting and rode low towards her chest, though, which Sandy felt a bit uncomfortable in, but it accentuated her modest bust, making her look, somehow, older. Looking more like _them_. It helped that she now wore smoky eye shadow, glittery lip gloss, and a real bra.

Before she was done gawking at herself, Pashmina had dashed towards Sparkle's bureau with a squeal and fished around in the jewelry box for a necklace, running over to Sparkle and handing it to her for her to place around Sandy's slender neck. Sandy moved her eyes to the chain slowly and caught sight of her cleavage, blushing. It was a dainty silver string and on the end of it was a shiny little S. Sandy heard in the background that she could keep it, but told herself she would have to remember to give it back when they returned. She stepped over to the side slowly, staring down at the light yellow shoes as she maneuvered around in them.

"Wait!" Sparkle said, grinning, as she rummaged through Candace's purse and handed her a little decorated bottle of pink liquid. "We can't forget the _piece de resistance!" _

Bijou took Sandy by the shoulders and held her still as Candace sprayed something on the girl's neck and wrists. Sandy sniffed at the air carefully and closed her eyes as a precaution. She instantly saw Candace at the game where she had hurt her ankle, sitting in the dug-out with a red drink she was too afraid to hold any longer. It was the scent she had worn that day- the one that smelled like roses.

She loved it. All of it.

-.-.-


End file.
